


The Home Of A Fairy

by Ribbonshalos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Angst, Blood, Enchantments, F/M, Fairy!Mercy, Fluff, Lumberjack camp, Lumberjack!Genji, Romance, Violence, forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbonshalos/pseuds/Ribbonshalos
Summary: Men are chopping down Mercy’s forest, but she is not one to stand idly aside. Her home is still hers, and she will fight for it until there is nothing left. Perhaps, through a strange encounter with one lumberjack, she can save it entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

Human men first come to the edge of the forest when dawn breaks. Mercy knows what they are capable of, and what they have done before. Her wings are invisible as she blends into a pine tree, and listens to them argue back and forth about the wood and the distance to carry it all. Her heart grows heavy with every passing word. The conversation ends with a handshake. As the sun fully emerges over the horizon, the men disappear.

Mercy breathes out in relief, but she is too quick to relax. They return in tomorrow’s morning.

They reappear, carrying axes and saws and strong energy. Lumberjacks. The first bite is into the bark of a gentle maple tree. Mercy almost cries out when it falls. The splintered, broken wood stares gravely into the daylight. As its leaves crash into the fern covered floor, the life of the forest quakes in terrible fear. It bleeds into Mercy’s center and causes her wings to anxiously flutter.

These men will take her home. Nothing will stop them… unless she does.

Straightening her wings, a raw wave of love and strength floods Mercy’s bones. An uphill battle awaits her, but she will fight it. They will leave, or leave her to die in whatever they don’t take; if they leave anything at all.

Despite her internal declaration, Mercy is meek at first. She slips around their tools and steals them when they are left unattended. The horses are constantly being used. There is little time for her to set them free before they are carrying timbers away. The cleared area outside of the forest is too open, and easy for her to be spotted.

A human has never laid eyes upon her in her entire existence. Her wish is to keep it that way. Men have always been greedy and lusty. If they dare to view her gentle wings, she fears they’d crumble to dust in their presence.

An entire week passes by. The men still remain, taking every pine and birch. Mercy’s little mischievous acts of sabotage only slow and frustrate the lumberjacks. Their persistence in turn fuels Mercy’s own desire to protect and preserve what is hers. Her home is still hers, for now.

She wanders the edge of the forest late one night. There is no rest to be found when the lumberjacks are sleeping just a little ways away. Tarps and little fires mark their man made road, as if they couldn’t stain this place anymore. From the twinkling darkness, she watches the men gather around to eat and drink. Crude stories are told, to which Mercy rolls her eyes at. One man is laughing but it’s not at the crude joke.  

He sits close to another. Nearly leaning away from the fire which dances in their dark brown eyes, one is slightly amused, while the one Mercy heard laugh before laughs again. Their similar faces are too striking. Brothers, she decides.

The force of the earth pulls her brow into a narrow, slanted thing. The lumberjack’s laugh echoes as he throws his head back, but it doesn’t reverberated kindly inside Mercy. It burns and boils her flesh. The acid from his sickening amusement at the destruction of her home causes her hands to curl around her wood staff. Her fingers grip it until the knuckles turn white.

She is not one for violence, but in this moment, she could toss a mountain upon all of them.

As if sensing kindled rage, the man abruptly stops laughing to swivel his head. All he sees is the dark edge of the forest. Mercy’s wings are like branches, and her torso mimics a trunk of a birch tree. He doesn’t see her, but he feels her heated gaze.

Good, Mercy thinks to herself. He should know how much rage she holds.

She steps away the moment one of the others calls for his attention. The thought of staying near such selfish creatures creates a hole in her chest.

The next morning, the sun rises alongside a man. Mercy almost misses him crossing her path. The sight of him alone startles her as they don’t venture too far in between the trees. Yet, this one is focused on something beyond the edge of the forest. He walks alone, only with an ax resting across his shoulders with his wrists resting upon it. Casually going about his work, Mercy follows him silently. Her wings are tucked close against her back as she finds the softest moss to step on. The trees work to hide her, but she still finds herself very wary of the man.

He stops in front of a young oak. It barely reaches over the tops of the other trees were it not for a small clearing giving it a chance. The sunshine falls onto his spiky black hair as he twirls his ax into both of his hands. In that moment, Mercy realizes it’s the same one who was laughing last night. She also concluded that his eyes are not dark, but a light brown, like that of sandalwood.

There is no reason for him to be so far from the other lumberjacks, or away from the edge. Their goal seems to be to slowly chip away the forest, inch by inch. This one man is neither apparent nor obvious. A frown tugs at the corners of her mouth with this puzzling scene.

Her lips shift into a snarl as he readies his ax at the base of the tree. Preparing himself with a few faux strokes, he raises the shiny blade above his head.

“DON’T!” Mercy cries out, stepping out from her only protection. Seized with a sudden, overpowering fear and strength, she flutters towards him. Her hand finds and scoops a pinecone off the ground. Her raised voice startles the man badly enough that he lowers his ax in astonishment. Swiftly, his gaze fixates on her swift glide towards him. Her wings flap like that of an angry hornet.  

“What… What are you—whoa!” He flinches back at the first pinecone she throws. Without hesitation, she takes another one before launching it at the man. He ducks under this one easily. Moving out of pure disbelief, he stares dumbly at her stalking forward.

“Wait—You have… wings. STOP!” He drops his axe just to hold out his hands. Mercy does, but her arm stays cocked back with her fingers pressing tightly into the edges of a pinecone.

“You humans can do nothing but destroy, and take what you can’t create.” Mercy’s yellow wings keep her a few inches off the ground out of fury alone. “Are you that wicked that you can’t help yourselves? Or do you not care?”

The man stares in stark confusion at her shouting. Holding wide eyes, he looks from the top of her head all the way down to the bottom of her groundless feet. He attempts to work his mouth without sound. Mercy does not care to listen to what he has to say.

“Leave my forest, and don’t come back,” she speaks.

“You have wings?” he almost cries out in question. Mercy has to close her eyes for a moment to wash the red out of her vision.

“Yes, I have wings,” she answers despite how obvious that it is. “Men still lust after everything, especially that which hasn’t been touched before. It doesn’t matter. I won’t let you take this place.”

He surveys her with the utmost disbelief but slowly gains control over his tongue. He straightens, no longer leaning away from her harsh advancement now that she flutters in one spot. Mercy can take in the sight of his strange, round ears now that she’s close enough. Unlike her pointed ones, men’s ears are not so elegant.

“I don’t… we need the wood,” he says almost in a daze.

Mercy shakes her staff at him, “and this forest doesn’t?”

Slowly, the natural man rises back within him as he tenses his jaw.

“Can’t you find another forest?” he asks.

Of course he would say such a thing. Her teeth snap together at his stupidity.

“You’ll find that place too, and take it for all of your selfish needs,” she counters sharply.

The man suddenly holds out his hands, palms facing her as he furiously shakes his head. His eyes squeeze closed as he gathers his thoughts.

“Wait. Wait.” His breath falls slowly out of his lungs. He looks to her with a befuddled expression. “Hold on for just a moment. Are you real?”

Mercy blinks once.

“What sort of question is that?”

“I don’t know!” he exasperates, gesturing to all of her person. “You have wings like… an angel.”

She finally releases her loaded arm. The pinecone hits him in the chest. It does little but cause him to flinch back.

“I’m a fairy,” she snaps. “You are human. What else do we have to address?”

The man’s eyes glance sideways in thought before returning to hers.

“You’re name?” he tries hesitantly.

She stills for a moment. Considering her options heavily, she touches gently onto the ground. One thought blooms gorgeously in her mind, but it is just a bud. Perhaps she can simply convince them to leave. There won’t have to be any violence, or struggle. She can just ask them to stop.

Her wings fold against her back as she regards his person silently. It’s dangerous to hope so quickly, but she approaches this new tactic with caution.

“My name is Mercy,” she says finally, as if letting go of a deep breath.

“Mercy,” he says, tasting it on his tongue in the morning light. “Mercy… I’m Genji—oh!”

His eyes are seized with a wide fright as he suddenly steps away. She watches his new demeanor, holding no understanding of it.

“What is it?” she asks.

“I gave you my name… Doesn’t that mean you have complete power over me?” he questions with heavy suspicion.

“Oh my—no!” Mercy almost cries out, “I’m not  _that_  kind of fairy.”

He regards her for a few moments before relaxing his shoulders. The wood within his irises peeks once more at the yellow wings upon her back. Slowly, Mercy rests both of her hands upon her staff. She meets his gaze with a somber look.

“Leave my forest, and don’t come back,” she speaks once more. There is no more fire within her, just a plea.

He shifts every so slightly. Leaning forward in question, he doesn’t break their eye contact.

“Why is this _your_ forest?” his voice lowers as he asks this. There is no suspicion or second agenda. It’s the honest yearning for a true answer.

The question rolls through her mind. She takes a moment to tuck a strand of hair behind her pointed ear as she collects her thoughts. The action catches Genji’s eyes. He blinks slowly in quiet mesmerization, as if stunned by the rising sun. For a second, pink stain his cheekbones.

She parts her lips, for once in the presence of an open soul and not a simple enemy. Before the words can move up her throat, shouting breaks into their little clearing. They both look to the approaching men who call Genji’s name while waving their axes.

Her wings are quick to turn away. He almost doesn’t realize her departure until he looks back to find himself alone. Stumbling to where she once stood, the lumberjack calls out her name. One hand reaches out, as if to catch her. He asks her to wait, to come back, but Mercy disappears into the safe foliage.

She doesn’t leave entirely. Hiding herself, she watches Genji stall on the edge of the clearing. He strains himself while looking for any sign of her yellow wings, or green dress. Almost desperately, he scans the forest. Only when the group of lumberjacks approach him does Genji tear his gaze away.

“Genji, where have you been,” a deep voice asks, no doubt his brother. “We heard you shouting.”

“I saw a fairy,” he breathes out immediately, almost too quickly for Mercy to catch. She stiffens at this. Before this encounter, her presence was unnatural, like a ghost. If they know to watch out for her tricks, her efforts could be stopped entirely.

“One of those little winged, imp things?” another man asks.

“No, she was a normal sized woman!” Genji gushes. “But with yellow wings. They were shaped like that of a butterfly’s, with swirling designs, like writing on translucent paper!”

Quietly, Mercy tucks her wings to her back. How pathetic she is, to become self-conscious because of a few words from the human. As if that alone makes them more pretty than she already knew them to be. He certainly spoke as if they were.

“Genji, we all see woman up here,” one man suggests, to which laughter rises at. “Mine had red hair last night.”

Genji’s brow narrows in anger, but his brother comes to his side.

“Come on,” his brother guides him away from the young oak. “Is the heat already getting to you?”

“Hanzo, no,” Genji almost begs. His mind is still running behind from processing the sight of her. “She really was…”

He trails off, but not out of the lumberjacks moving around to escort him away. Perhaps he’s hit with the realization they simply won’t believe him. To persist would give him looks of worry, and then, whispers of insanity.

At least, this is what Mercy hopes for. The lumberjacks are much too lighthearted to believe in creatures like herself. One man knows, but he cannot stop her.

Mercy almost slips away when Genji returns. His eyes of light wood scan the trees once more, but only for a moment as he bends down to pick up his ax. The other lumberjack, his brother, calls his name.

He leaves with a strange look on his face. Mercy can’t pin it as determination, or wonder alone. Maybe it’s both. Either one means trouble for her plans of sabotage. In the very least, she has a foothold in the direction of negotiating peace with these men.

For a startling heartbeat, as Genji’s back stays in her view, she understands that a human truly saw her. A lumberjack, no less. She even spoke with him.

She stopped him from chopping down one little oak. What can she save tomorrow?

*

Genji saw a fairy, and she threw a pinecone at him.

Since that morning, Genji has been distracted from his actual work. Her yellow wings keep fluttering in the back of his mind, along with the soft fall of her white gold hair. She had no shoes, which bewilders him to no end. To go trekking through the forest without boots would destroy the bottom of his feet. Then again, he’s only human. She’s almost not of this world.

She wore a green dress. A strange texture of cloth looked exactly like moss hanging from her shoulders. It almost floated around her. The smooth skirt fell gently against her thighs. The sunlight on her legs alone made Genji believe it was all a dream.

The demand to leave her forest still prevails. Even as he and Hanzo take a saw to a particular large birch, he’s hardly in that moment. His mind is dragged back to the little clearing he went to for clarity and peace. The night before, he had a eerie sensation of something watching him from the trees. He had awoken with the need to go out by himself and see what the forest is like without all the other men swearing and grumbling around him.

The elegant movement of her dainty fingers brushing a lock of hair behind her strange, pointy ears almost stopped Genji’s lungs. The sight alone of her golden figure within the sun enchanted him beyond reason.

The thought of colliding with an angry fairy with butterfly wings never graced his mind before now. Of course, the locals had their stories, and the town warned of fairies, but they are men of natural ground. How could he ever believe in such a creature until today?

Mercy. That’s her name. Genji tastes it on his lips silently while he drives an ax head into a tree trunk. The sun passes swiftly over head as he mulls over this morning’s event over and over. Why she spoke of wicked men lusting after things they cannot make on their own, Genji still chews upon. The magical creature must surely have the means to relocate, or even stop them if she wanted.

The recent setbacks and annoyances every lumberjack has been facing clicks into place. The fairy is the one disrupting their work. She has to be. She demanded that he leave her forest and never return, didn’t she? What else has she been doing to halt their progress?

Hanzo and Genji need this money. It’s their right to take what they came all the way here for. If they don’t complete this work, they don’t get paid. Every tree truck is another coin in their pocket.

Genji stills while gripping the wood handle of an axe. As the last call for supper rings out, everyone puts down their axes. He stares back into the forest. New stumps and crushed ferns are scattered around him. Deep in between the trees, that fairy is planning her next sabotage.

His jaw clamps together in frustration. No one believes he saw a fairy. The moment Hanzo asked about his health, Genji knew to shut up about it. If he could just catch her, just to get her to stop until they are done, he could prove himself right and protect their work.

The sharp memories of pine cones hitting his person play vividly in the back of his mind. Her eyes were blue yet nearly shaking with fury. The gentle breeze caused by her fluttering wings still brushes against his skin.

She’ll come back if she wants to ruin their work again. When she does, Genji will be waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji is doing everything he can to stop the fairy’s tricks, but he’s the only human she’ll face.

Genji doesn’t have to wait long for the fairy to cause mischief. She is somehow slippery and apparent all at once, at least, to him. When the workers complain about missing tools or finding a dead patch of trees that when reexamine, look perfectly healthy, Genji knows the fairy is working as hard as them.

Not many are superstitious; they don’t have time to be. Reinhardt is the only one who knows of strange stories surrounding mystical creatures, but he doesn’t exactly believe them either.

On his one off day, Genji travels to the closest town with Hanzo. Their homes lie far from the edge of the forest. When his brother is preoccupied with buying food and supplies, Genji will ask the locals about fairies. They have plenty of stories, but they hold no way of capturing a fairy. Any attempts to contain one of the winged creatures ends badly for the foolish man to try so in their tales.

Nothing deters Genji from his course. He doesn’t want to hurt the glowing, winged woman, but she can’t keep stalling their progress. Every house in this town is built out of logs. It’s their homes they’re trying to protect and keep with their work.

Frustrated, and teased constantly for seeing a fairy, Genji works out his agitation in the swings of his ax. During work, he’ll feel the sensation of eyes upon him. He stops to look into the trees. She must be watching now. Genji has no other explanation for it. Although he finds that if he stares back long enough, the sensation disappears.

Only a week after Genji first met Mercy does she reappear. It’s late in a thick, hot night. The other men are weary and rest heavily, but Genji lies awake on a thin bedspread while staring up at the sky. His mind refuses to still. The problem of the fairy keeps pulling at every corner of his brain but no solutions unfold yet.

The faintest squeak from the door of the makeshift corrals echoes. He mistakes it for his imagination, until it sounds again. Genji sits up, alerted to the darkness of the camp. Slumbering beside him, Hanzo doesn’t move.

Genji silently gets to his feet, and grabs his ax. Shifting the handle in his hands, he creep quietly to the corral. It’s only a small fence of logs and nails, but the door is metal. The nails allowing it to swing open clash terribly with the material, causing it to screech like a sponge against a glass surface.

Moving low upon the ground, nearly out of the camp, Genji finds the horses alert but unafraid. Quiet as the night, he comes up to the fence. Stamping hooves and swishing tails echo as his shoulder presses into the wood.

He steps forward, ax ready, when he spies the glowing outline of two wings against a woman’s back. Blonde hair, even bright in the darkness, turns. A gasp falls from her pink lips before a slap of anger overcomes her brow.

Genji immediately straightens with a heavy sigh of exasperation

“Mercy!” he whispers harshly. “What are you doing? Can’t you leave your schemes for the daylight?”

“Oh yes, of course, let me make destroying my home easy for you,” her tone drips sarcasm as she faces. A gentle light outlines the tips of her butterfly like wings. In her irritation, they twitch and flutter slightly.  

He rubs a hand to his face while lowering the ax head to the crowd. Holding the handle, he looks back to the fairy.

“Get out of here,” he grits between his teeth.

Genji pauses in sudden thought. His eyes flicker back to the men sleeping on the ground as Mercy’s stare follows his. Turning back to look at her, the anger upon her brow shifts to a harder expression. For a heartbeat, fear tugs at her brave mask.

It would only take a moment to shout and wake them. The fairy is right here in plain view, glowing no less. They would see, and know that he’s not spinning tales.

The tension expands into a long second. Mercy peers back at him suspiciously as her wings hold out, ready. They both stand, waiting for a reaction.

Genji sighs before looking away, “Leave.”

He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t want this now. Mercy inhales like a soft breeze.

“Not until I do this,” she says as Genji whips his head back to her. With one motion, she throws open the door to the corral. As if breaking a dam, the horses rush out and rumble the ground in their freedom.

Golden wings lift her out of the way. He can’t read anything on her face in the darkness, except for the guardianship shining in her blue eyes. Genji watches her only a moment more before the thunder of hooves shakes his boots.

He shouts at the escape before running after the horses. Most of them still have on their bridles without the mouth bit and Genji doesn’t have time to grab rope. The commotion stirs and awakens the other lumberjacks, who swiftly take in the fleeing animals with alarming dismay.

It takes all night to gather every last horse, but none are lost. Genji lies, knowing the truth is futile, and may even risk pinning him with releasing them. No one could prove he was awake before any of them anyways. It was a mad blur to gather them before they wandered into the forest or down the trail too far to catch on foot.

Dawn breaks as the corral door is once again shut. There is no relief for the exhausted lumberjacks as work needs to be done. Genji silently curses himself. He had her right there, but the fairy took her chance the moment he stalled.

Hanzo eats his breakfast without a word but a storm brews in his tired face. It almost matches the intensity in Genji’s eyes as he racks his brain. A solution to her disturbances must be somewhere, he needs to find it.

The golden rise of the sun only reminds him of her backside. She flew as Genji ran, like a dream disappearing from his fingertips.

The day after that, Genji finds her in a tree, with at least four axes across her lab.

“I see all of your horses are pulling trees out of my home,” Mercy says in a low, displeased tone. He finds her frown the slightest bit satisfying for causing him to chase after the animals all night.

“I won’t let you do that again,” he calls up. Annoyed, he puts his hand up to shield his eyes as the sun falls directly behind her. She must like that.

Oddly enough, she shows herself to him. Only when no other lumberjacks are nearby, but there’s no fear at him alone. Maybe she was at first. Maybe the other men are still foreign creatures that she has yet to figure out, but, she can and will toss a pine cone at him without any hesitation.

“I can’t keep letting you destroy all of this,” she gestures with her vine wrapped arm. Her dress is a dark green today, dotted with pink water lilies. Where she found such plants is a mystery to him.

“We won’t take every last tree,” Genji raises his voice up to her. “You can’t possibly lost your entire home to us.”

Her eyes fall down to him. Leaning up against the tree truck, Genji bears the weight of her grief as her finger slides down one wooden handle. It rots before disappearing entirely. She touches the rest, before dropping the ax heads off of her tree branch. They pound into the dirt below, mimicking the heavy beat of a heart.

“You don’t care to understand,” she speaks in a soft breath. Genji’s brow crinkles as her blonde hair falls forward against her cheeks.

“Neither do you,” he says. His chin lifts back to watch her lips press tightly together.

He doesn’t understand, but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to. They both are fighting an impossible force. Surely half of the woods isn’t such a lost to her. Can’t she understand that they need this? Fairies aren’t the only ones who rely on the forest.

This battle will continue without an impasse, but she can’t win. She refuses to outright do anything upscale nor does she reveal herself. Her magic is strong enough that she could kill any lumberjack she wanted to, including him.

Slowly, she tucks a lock of hair behind her pointed ears. Fierce protection grows in the depths of her blues. She says nothing more as she flutters away, leaving Genji to pick up the ax heads. It will be impossible to explain this, but at least it will only take one week’s time to replace them.

He’s attempting to stop Mercy just as much as he’s trying to figure her out.

Her imprints are left all over their camp and work stations. A few times, Genji wanders a little further past the tree line to work alone. Partly to get away from the constant jeers of the other men, but partly in hope that she’ll appear again.

Preferably without an arson of pine cones ready.

Genji finds himself alone one afternoon where the sun is melting everything it touches. He stalls to drink from his canteen and remove his sweat soaked skirt and scarf. Sitting on a stump he created just early that morning, he basks in the shade thrown by the trees. It’s all too easy to imagine what the fairy would say to him now, about the trees giving him shadows to cool down.

He douses water down his face, letting it wash away wood chips and dirt. His breaths are slow and deep as he rubs his hand across his forehead. When his eyes open, the fairy is standing at the edge of the little clearing he made. Blue irises embed into his person, as if studying an important painting.

“It’s so strange,” she speaks quietly, stepping closer. Her hand twists one end of his orange scarf as it rests around her shoulders. “How men don’t have wings upon their backs. You’re ears are… interesting as well.”

“That’s all?” Genji almost grins. Resting his elbow on his knees, he leans forward. “That’s the only adjective you can find?”

“I have many adjectives for you.” She lifts her chin with haughtiness, causing a smile to break his composure. “Interesting is the only mildly positive one.”

Her face turns away slightly while still peering at him with wary eyes. The motion displays her wonderfully pointed ears. Genji drinks in the image, before a tucked lock of hair somewhat conceals her features.

“Funny, I have many for you.” He clasps his hands together, still leaning forward. “Trickster. Mischievous. Mysterious. If you’re planning to steal my clothes now, thieving.”

Her lips twitch, almost tugging upwards to Genji’s quiet anticipation, but she composes herself quickly. Tossing her white gold hair, she looks down to his scarf.

“I’m still debating on that,” she muses more to herself. “Will that make you leave?”

“No,” he almost signs as he runs a head through his damp hair. “No…”

Blue ivy falls down her person today, almost like a gentle waterfall. Small, budding flowers trace the ends of the skirt and the sweetheart neckline. A string of nuts are tied around her neck. They nestle into the hollow of her throat as her wings slow down in their once fluttering motion. Her gaze matches the color of her dress.

Frustration flares dangerously inside his chest. This work is what is supporting Genji’s and Hanzo’s family at the moment, but it’s taking something else entirely from her. He would fight endlessly for this job. He would battle back just to chop down a few more trees. Now, he’s personally dismantling another person’s home.

He doesn’t know how to stop it, or what to save.

“Mercy,” he says, almost reaching out his hand in a useless gesture. “I need to do this.”

The weight of her soul crushes him when she looks to him.

“Of course you do, Genji,” she says before disappearing into the brush. Not even a glittering trail remains.

She leaves everything except his scarf, but that is the least of Genji’s problems.

What was a lost thought comes back to aid him. A storm stirs the heavens one dark night. Heavy clouds and sharp wind warns of what’s coming in the morning. The lumberjacks prepare with thicker coats and steel nerves. Work won’t stop unless a hurricane comes down upon them, and all they can do is brace themselves before then.

The dark morning howls, causing him to miss the sound of bare feet touching over trampled ferns. He hasn’t even swung his ax yet before he finds Mercy at the edge of the treeline. She’s closer than she’s ever been to the camp during daylight. While revealing herself to any man who looks to the gap in the trees, Genji hurries to her. He constantly throws looks over his shoulder in hopes that no one notices her glowing wings.

“What are you doing, Mercy?” he nearly shouts above the roaring wind. She steps forward to meet him, almost making him lean backwards at her advance. Swiftly, she wraps his orange scarf around his neck snugly. The action is so bizarrely soft and leaking with concern that Genji wonders if he’s not entirely awake.

She tugs once at the end of the orange scarf. It stays firmly in place. The wind whips her hair around her face, like a storm nymph amidst the chaos. Her ethereal person almost overwhelms his tongue. The raging wind is nothing to her wings, although she keeps them stiffly closed against her back.

“Why did you give this back?” he manages to ask through his befuddlement.

“You’ll be cold without it,” she states simply.

“No, Mercy,” he says again. The urge to cup her face and keep her hair out of the way of his view almost takes over him. “Why did you give this back?”

Her head shakes only slightly, as if his one question is too much before she says once again, “You’ll be cold without it.”

She turns away from him. A plea waits on his lips but he contains it, for he knows other lumberjacks are close by. His hand reaches up to touch his orange scarf as the wind howls.

Before her back faces him entirely, Mercy stills. Her eyes widen ever so slightly as she looks up to the black clouds overhead.

“Lightning,” she says so faintly that Genji wonders if he heard her right.

He has no time to ask for clarification as Mercy leaps and tackles him into the ground. Reflectively, he grabs her waist as he’s thrown back by her body. Her wings flare at as they hit the ground. Lightning splits open the earth where Genji was standing just a moment ago. A crack of noise explodes in his ears, as if inside of a cannon. They lie in the trampled ferns. Iron spreads across Genji’s tongue, terrifying him to what could have just happen if Mercy hadn’t acted.

He blinks slowly, finding the fairy on his chest, as stunned as him. Her arms lie on either side of his head. Heaving lungs match his own as her mouth hangs open. Genji finds the warmth of her hips anchoring as she stares down at him. The wind tugs her hair across her face without restraint, but it does nothing to stop him from finding worry in her eyes.

“Are you alright?” she almost whispers. Her blue eyes refuse to close for even a moment as she looks over him. Underneath her weight, Genji takes in the touch of her beating heart.

Genji nods, breathless.

She gets to her feet. For a moment, she refuses to look at him while she attempts to tuck her hair behind her ears. The wind won’t let her. Genji slowly stands, unable to tear his gaze away from the fairy.

“Mercy,” he almost begs. “The best way to make us leave is to hurt us but you refuse. You… you saved me.”

Mercy still doesn’t look at him. He steps closer, remembering the race of his heart against her skin.

“It’s not the only way,” she says against the howling wind.

“Let me show you my home, what we do with this wood,” he pleads. “Maybe we can work something out.”

They don’t have to be enemies. She doesn’t have to lose her entire home for their sakes. Something can be done. Genji wants her to understand. There is not one malice bone in her feather light body, but she sees nothing but their destruction.

If he can prove otherwise, something can be worked out between fairy and man.

Mercy finally turns her head. Her hair flutters against her cheeks as he presents his open expression. He silently prays that she knows his genuine intentions. Blue sways his soul before she parts her lips.

“Only if you let me show you my home first.”

Genji agrees without hesitation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercy leads Genji deeper into the forest where she shows him every piece of her home.

“You’re not coming?” Hanzo asks, subtly stunned.

“I volunteered to help Reinhardt out with some equipment,” Genji lies, albeit, not for the first time. “It seems everything has been going missing lately, so he offered me extra hours if I stayed.”

At that, his older brother stills. His brow sinks into heavy consideration, turning over unspoken thoughts.

“I’ll help you then,” he says, stepping back to the lumberjack camp.

“No! Hanzo, no,” he nearly yells before settling his voice. “Reinhardt won’t pay both of us. Just go and get what we need from town. I’ll go with you on the next trip, don’t worry.”

He smiles lightly, conveying how natural and easygoing everything is. This does little to sway Hanzo, but he stops at least, frowning.

“I should be the one working extra hours,” he speaks, laced with underlying meanings that Genji hears all too well. It almost makes him break his mask to tell him the truth, but that would be much harder for Hanzo to bear.

“Hanzo, I can get just as much money as you,” he teases to pull the conversation back to the sunlight. “Go and see Mom. She’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t see at least one of us.”

His frown stays in place, but he finally moves back to the road. Other men are traveling it this morning as well. On the rare days they have a Sunday off, most go to town to get drunk or visit their families. For him and his brother, they carefully go over their pay and save what they can while providing for their home.

“Don’t overwork yourself, Genji,” Hanzo warns. The softest tone of brotherly concern washes over him. “You need to work for the rest of the week as well.”

“I never do,” he grins, to which Hanzo rolls his eyes but it settles everything back to where it should be. Hanzo worries enough for both of them anyways, not that Genji doesn’t. He just distracts himself with catching a fairy.

Watching until Hanzo is only a dot on the horizon, Genji turns back to camp. Reinhardt always stays, but that’s because of the recent trouble with missing tools. He guards their little camp while everyone else goes off. Not wanting to come up with another explanation, Genji slips around the entire camp through the trees, before jogging into the forest.

Early morning sings with birds and buzzing bugs. The cooler air reinvigorates his rushing steps. A deep breath draws into his lungs as Genji breaks into the clearing. The same one where he first was assaulted by the fairy’s throwing arm.

Stepping closer, he surveys the trees and the one stump he made. Nothing stirs, or so it seems.

Tentatively, Genji calls out, “Mercy?”

“Hello, Genji,” her voice springs up behind him, causing him to startle. Mercy knows exactly what she’s done, for the slight smile on her lips only grows as he twists to face her.

“How is it that you can disappear and reappear in an instance?” he gasps dramatically. Mercy shakes her head as she steps past him. “You are as spooky as a ghost sometimes.”

“Only when I want to be,” she tosses a look over her shoulder. She stops in the grass as her wings flutter slowly. “I didn’t mean to scare you; I was just making sure you didn’t bring anyone to follow us.”

Genji stills at the implication, before cooling his expression. His fingers lift up to touch the orange scarf still wrapped around his throat. A little over a week has past since she wrapped it around him, and it still carries a gentle pine scent.

She has proven herself to him more the necessary, but he hasn’t had the chance yet. If this journey into her home is it, Genji won’t let her think anything less of him. Stepping forward, he clears his throat.

“It’s just you and me. So if you’re going to hypnotize me with your magic, you better do it now,” he teases.

“Oh my—Genji. I wouldn’t want to hypnotize you even if that was a real thing,” Mercy scoffs as he comes to her side.

Her dress is a knitted fabric of grass blades and what Genji suspects are large tulip petals. The tunic is green and falls from her shoulders in a v-neck without any sleeves. Yellow and Pink petals flip daintily up at the ends as they rest against her thighs. A few strands of white gold hair fall in front of her pointed ears, but not enough to hide the stunning feature.

“Too bad,” he muses. To his delight, Mercy scoffs again before tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Suddenly, she loses her slight irritation. A deep breath leaves her lungs as she turns to him. Her wings are open, outlining the edge of her person in glowing gold.

“I want to show you my home so that you can understand,” she starts slowly, as if approaching a great battle. “There will be magical creatures like myself, and I fully expect you to keep this a secret and safe. If you don’t want to face that, you can leave now.”

Genji holds her gaze, unwillingly to even blink. His shoulders straighten as he lifts his chin.

“I won’t tell a soul. I want you to show me,” he breathes. Each word holds honest truth as she takes them in. Slowly, they work to lighten her burden gaze until she almost smiles.

He pauses before adding, “So long as no one eats me.”

In response, Mercy presses her open hand to her chest, above her heart.

“I promise upon my name that no harm will come upon you,” she speaks. For a moment, Genji swears wind chimes and stones falling into a river echo in the air, but the noise disappear when she lowers her hand.

“I thought you said you weren’t the kind of fairy to take names?” Genji asks, curious, but at ease.

“Just because I don’t take human names doesn’t mean they aren’t important,” she explains. “Names are powerful. It makes you a living, breathing thing just as much as your heart or mind does. It makes you real.”

Genji stills at her words, before looking over her. Suspicion tugs at the corner of his eyes.

“Is your real name Mercy?” he asks slowly.

The stone expression she gives him answers that well enough.

“Don’t worry about such things,” she says, turning back to the trees. “In any case, everyone does call me Mercy.”

He doesn’t know exactly what to take from that, but he steps after her.

“Are you ready?” she asks, looking to him in a mixture of contained excitement and anticipation.

“Yes,” he says.

Her wings flutter, tugging his shirt and hair with the wind effects as she hovers a few inches off of the ground. Gesturing with her hand, she flies gently between two trees.

“Follow me,” she invites. The adrenaline of the unknown and the certainty of the beautiful woman he walks behind fills his heart. He walks after the golden dust trailing behind her wings.

Mercy flies slowly for him, especially when he has to swing his legs over fallen trees or stumbles into a low spot. Her fluttering wings keeps him originated as the trees and ferns all blur together into one scene. A few moments of doubt touch at the back of Genji’s mind, but slowly fade away when she brings him to a quiet stream. The water is crystal clear as she kneels beside it. Genji settles beside her. He watches water drip between her fingers as she cups a small handful. Bringing it to her mouth, she drinks.

“Go on,” she says once she wipes her chin. “It’s clean. Probably more so than what’s in those cans you lumberjacks carry around”

Genji is skeptical but he dips his hands into the stream. His movement is nowhere near as elegant or refine as her, who has no doubt done this her entire life, but the water is cool. It tastes light and fills his belly. Licking his lips, Mercy smiles as she gets back to her feet.

“We’re almost there,” she holds out her hand. Genji takes it to stand, but she doesn’t let go. Instead, she tugs him forward. Tightening his grip instead of loosening his fingers, his heart begins to beat at the slight dampness to her skin. Warmth begins to bloom against his fingers as he inhales deeply.

She leads him through a low hanging tree. The branches almost brush against his back before he straightens. A small meadow opens up before them, but a very distinct house shape takes up a small hill underneath a towering oak tree. Between thick, twisting roots opens up a stone door, with a circular, stained glass window.

“Is this where you live?” Genji asks. He’s almost stunned at the yellow and pink flowers in the grass, along with the stone crafted home built underneath such an old tree.

“No,” she says, still leading him forward. He slows for a moment before her hand tugs at his, and he moves to catch up. Everything in his gaze is as surreal as the stories Reinhardt tells. A fairy tale is waiting to unfold here, with a princess, and a dragon, and a knight in shining armor.

“This is Torbjörn’s and Ingrid’s home. Brigitte has never seen a human before,” Mercy says, growing excited and reserved all at once. She turns back to take in his expression. “They’re sort of my family.”

Her family. It sinks into his mind as they amble over the lush meadow. They approach and walk into the shadow of the giant oak. The early afternoon light is just beginning to become too hot as Mercy knocks on the door. A sudden wave of anxiousness washes over him at meeting the people Mercy loves. She is entirely too sure, while Genji nearly clings to her hand.

“Mercy, is that you?” a feminine voice comes from within before the door opens.

“Is that blasted human with you?” a deeper, husky voice stained with years of coal dust growls. A short man, an extremely short man, steps out with the look of fire in his one, unpatched eye. Genji blinks once at the sight of him as he glares back.

“Torbjörn,” Mercy chastises, before stepping back to present him. She lets go of his hand but thankfully steps closer to his side. Another person exists the door. A living, breathing stone statue of a woman smiles at Genji warmly. His lips part silently at the creature as she touches Torbjörn’s shoulder affectionately.

“My dear,” the stone statue speaks gently but firmly, no doubt the first voice Genji heard before, “be kind to Mercy’s guest.”

Still comprehending the strange creatures before him, Mercy turns slightly to Genji. Her kind smile is apologetic as it reassures him. He smiles back, not wanting her to think that he doesn’t like the two mystical beings.

“Genji, this is Torbjörn. He’s a dwarf,” she gestures to the short man, who somehow manages to squeeze his face tighter into suspicious defense. “And this is Ingrid, a stone golem.”

“My husband and I are happy to meet you,” the stone creature smiles without cracking the gray rocks of her lips. Even her eyes are an impressive granite, but they move and shift without hindrance or hiding how kind she is. The hair upon her head, or what Genji can assume is hair for every part of her looks like stone, is braided back from her face.

“Hello,” he says back, offering a slight bow in response. “I’m glad to meet you.”

The dwarf spits off to the side for a moment, to which both Mercy starts at. The short man is still confusing Genji, especially with how he came to be with someone so nice.

“Where are you taking this human?” he asks in his gravelly tone.

“To my home, and everywhere in between,” Mercy lowers her voice pointedly to Torbjörn. “We’ll come back later this evening, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, we do—” Torbjörn begins until the stone golem steps forward.

“Of course we won’t,” Ingrid says. “Brigitte wants to meet him.”

Mercy smiles at Torbjörn’s obviously disgruntlement before thanking them. Genji stays quiet. Self-consciously, he can’t help but feel like a white birch in between black oaks. After bidding the two goodbye, Mercy’s wings flutter back to the meadow. Genji follows her, looking briefly back to the dwarf and stone golem.

“The dwarf has a big personality,” Genji remarks, to which Mercy sighs.

“Forgive him; he’s like me,” she says. Between long, lush blades of grass, Mercy turns to look over him. Her wings still as she asks, “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? Yes, why?” Genji questions suspiciously.  

Her hair brushes against her cheekbones as she holds his gaze. Refusing to blink, she hums once. She must have found what she was looking for within him for she turns away with a graceful motion.

“I have more to show you,” she says, fluttering quickly. Genji steps through the grass, hurrying to keep with her. A thought presses to the back of his mind on how she’s still testing him. Eagerness takes over his chest once again. The world he’s just stepping into is already spilling wonder into his eyes. In the fairy’s wake, he can only find more.

She takes him farther. The meadow falls behind them as they slip between vine wrapped trees and flower patches. She points to the towering birch she planted years ago, and the blossoming rose bush that was trampled over by a centaur when it was a budding stem. Genji follows her eyes, attempting to see exactly what she sees within the moss and dirt and ever growing vegetation.

After crossing another small stream, they come to a circle of weeping willows. Softly, Mercy welcomes him to her home as she brushes a curtain of falling branches aside. He takes in her sure, calm face before stepping inside.

It’s bizarre and cozy all at once. The tree trucks of the weeping willows act as posts to the climbing vines that weave themselves together to act as the walls of her house. Thousands of small leaves upon thin branches drape overhead to become the roof.

How many nights does she watch the stars? How many nights does she dream in the mass of moss and cattail cotton in one corner of the grassy floor? Sculpted shelves of stone are stacked along the tree trucks, holding small bowls and vases along with a few sparkling shards of gemstones.

When his wandering gaze returns to her, Mercy is watching him softly. For a moment, her eyes drops into a deep, drowning blue before she lowers her gaze. The corners of her mouth fall slightly as she turns her face upwards. Patches of sunlight fall onto her face, scattered with shadows.

“Mercy?” Genji quietly asks, hoping she doesn’t regret this. That she doesn’t regret him. There really is no reason for her to trust him, and she’s brought him directly to the people she cares about, and her own bed. Why does she give him trust? Why does she let the one destroying her home come with her?

“Traveling with you today reminded me of what I’m fighting for. For you, this is all new… It’s like I’m seeing it for the first time all over again when I watch you.” She says, letting her hair brush against her shoulders as her head turns slightly. “Have you ever missed the obvious beauty around you?”

Genji’s hand lifts. Her tone is lower, full of her burning fire and racing heart. It burns and soothes him all at once. His fingers want to press comfortingly against her skin, but he lowers his hand after a moment.

This is what he’s helping to destroy. This is what he’ll take from her. This is her final attempt to sway a lumberjack from chopping another tree.

She doesn’t know what’s being destroyed if he doesn’t do this work.

Genji exhales deeply, lifting his eyes slowly despite feeling unworthy of her bright eyes.

“I’m starting to wonder if I am,” Genji says. Confusion crinkles her brow at this, but Genji smiles at her.

His compliment on the weeping willows takes her away from his previous words. She flutters upwards, just a little, to tug at the branches overhead and explain how they keep out water when it rains. Staying for a few moments more, Genji mesmerizes the dazzling yellow and green shards of glass on one shelf before Mercy insists they move on.

They come upon a small grove where hundreds of bushes bloom with sweet berries. Eating blueberries and strawberries, Mercy’s amused smile stays on Genji as he tries each fruit. She lets him go on about how fresh they are, and how he’s never had anything so good before. Perhaps there’s magic in the plants as well.

Once evening begins to fall, they cross back over the stream before taking a drink. Mercy splashes his arm a little when they kneel beside the water. When Genji looks at the offending fairy, she looks away all to innocently. She almost sounds surprised when she cries out at the water spraying up by Genji’s quick hand. They don’t get too intense, as Mercy does want to hurry him back to Torbjörn and Ingrid.

As they come back to the meadow, a strange stirring keeps brushing against his rib cage. It shifts as swiftly as the temperature of the day, from warm to cold to something sick then something happy. Genji doesn’t dare wrestle it now, for fear of it ruining this day. He’ll let it attack his heart and lungs after Mercy is done showing him her home.

When she stands beside him, despite the dwarf’s hard, one eye glare, Genji doesn’t feel so conflicted. The sky begins to fade into a deeper blue that turns into a black violet. Out of the home underneath the giant oak appears another stone golem. Mercy introduces her as Brigitte, and she all but stares at Genji in awe. She’s taller than her mother, and built twice as large as her stone skin swells with strength. Nervousness sets it at how easily she could break him in half, but it moves into wonder at how many trees she could chop down in a single day.

Ingrid repeatedly makes sure he has plenty to eat, even though he and Mercy already had their supper. Just as the last pieces of the sunlight fade into a new night, Brigitte asks Torbjörn to sing a song. He grudgingly refuses at first, specifically glaring at Genji, before Ingrid touches his bearded cheek and kindly asks him to.

They all gather on the soft grass in the meadow as the dwarf sings. His voice is deep and gravely, with nothing particular sweet, but the lyrics keep a gentle rhythm. The words move from the earth itself to the trees and the days children play with worried mothers watching over them. A story evolves from his voice, turning into a reassuring father comforting the mother of his children.

It works its way into the stirring mess within Genji’s chest. He wants to throw it away and cling to it all at once. He wants to be reassuring, just like the man is to his wife within the song.  

The chorus arrives in a faster voice that Torbjorn keeps. Mercy’s head bobs slightly as Brigitte takes Ingrid’s arms and begins to dance. They turn and circle and twirl around each other while Torbjörn keeps the melody. The stone golems laugh as hearty as any mortal before Brigitte stops to grab Mercy’s hands. Without hesitation, the fairy’s wings flutter her to her feet as she begins dancing. Ingrid, left without a dance partner, approaches Genji with a glowing expression in her gray cheeks.

He tries to refuse. This is their song and dance. He’s already intruded enough but Ingrid won’t allow him to simply watch. Getting him to stand, they loosely hold each others arms as Ingrid leads him in a circle. Practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, Genji catches the rhythm. A grin breaks out into his cheeks. For a stone creature, Ingrid is incredible light on her feet.

Brigitte takes over the song as Torbjörn grunts. A moment later, he shoves between them before taking his wife’s hands. Suppressing his laughter as the glaring dwarf dances with his wife, Torbjörn soon melts his hard gaze into something soft. Genji only has a moment to step aside before Mercy’s glowing wings appear.

Her hair is falling everywhere around her face. Her hands find his shoulders, slipping her palms gently against his person. He rests his hands on her waist as if it was the most natural thing to do before he stills.

“I know you can dance,” she almost whispers, like she knows a secret. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

He responds in kind to her teasing, “What could a lumberjack possibly be afraid of?”

She leans in, close to his cheek while her lips nearly brush his ear.

“A fairy,” she hushes softly before laughing and leading him forward. He takes the challenge with his entire spirit.

Genji has danced before, but these creatures have their own motion. Mercy moves like a feather, like a breeze on a warm summer day. She twirls and keeps the pacing slow enough for the lowly mortal to keep up. Genji soaks in the warmth of her body. His heartbeat pulses in his ears as he turns and swings with the fairy, wondering if her heart is just as quick.

The song ends in Brigitte’s voice. Torbjörn and Ingrid slow at the last note but the stone golem leans down to kiss her love. Mercy and Genji both look away but find themselves looking to each other. A pink blush touches both of their faces as they knowingly look away once more.

Their hands drop from each other. The heat flooding his blood keeps his chest cavity from too much pain, but the stirring is becoming like needles. When Mercy tucks a lock of hair behind her pointed ear, the air in his lungs disappears. Her gentle gaze helps and hinders the movement in his rib cage.

“It’s dark,” she says breathlessly. Maybe her heart is bumping against her sternum like his is. “I should take you back to your camp.”

Genji agrees softly, finding Brigitte’s gaze falling between them curiously. Ingrid wishes for them to travel safely. Torbjörn threatens Genji that if so much as a twig falls and scratches Mercy’s cheek, he’ll be paying for it.

Two different creatures chastise Torbjörn before Genji can promise no harm to befall the fairy.  

When they leave the meadow, Genji stumbles over a log but thankfully doesn’t fall completely into the dirt. Mercy pauses in her slight flight before touching her feet back onto the earth. She takes his arm in her dainty hand. Silently, despite Genji’s slight embarrassment, she leads him forward.  

It becomes a stroll through the midnight forest. The moon above lights their way in silver. Mercy is at ease; nothing causes her wings to flutter anxiously. A soft hum carries at the back of her throat from the song Torbjörn and Brigitte sang. The melody is circling Genji’s mind, but he can’t possible sing it.

An energy fills his bones and drains it all at once. He doesn’t want to feel anything except her hand resting in the crook of his arm. Anything else pricking his soul is too sharp and painful.

He thought this would give him clarity, understanding of why the fairy does what she does—and it did. He just didn’t believe it would throw so many stones into the river of his mind. They jumble his thoughts and throw his determination off course. Still, the support of his family stays safely in the back of his mind. They need him, just as much as Mercy’s family needs her.

Two homes, but whose will be lost because of the other?

They come upon a large fallen tree. Mercy lifts her hand away from his arm to allow him to scoot over it. As he does so, Genji looks back at her. Her eyes fall to his upper back, staring intently with parted lips before being caught by his stare. Her eyes widen in slight shame before she clears her throat.

“I don’t mean to stare,” she says softly, “I still find it strange how you look so much like me but don’t have wings… or pointed ears.”

Genji stills, sitting on the large, fallen tree as laughter works its way out of his throat. Turning so his back faces her entirely, he begins to unbutton his shirt.

“What are you doing?” she asks, nearly alarmed.

“Letting you satisfy your curiosity,” he says in a low voice that makes pink burn her cheekbones. Narrowing her brow to compose herself, her wings flutter behind him.

“Put your shirt back on,” she says, attempting to sound aloof.

He already has it off, and slowly unravels his scarf as well. Silently, with a knowing grin, Genji waits. The corner of his vision takes in her stone hard expression before she steps closer. Her gaze flickers to the side of his face. Resting his hands on either side of him upon the fallen tree, he presents his bare skin.

It’s the least he can do to repay everything she’s done. Genji is curious too, but he doesn’t dare ask yet.

“This is a human trick,” she says quietly, almost against his neck, but the joke is not lost to him.

“Of course. Seduction is one of human’s best skills and shouldn’t be trifled with,” he says as a mock warning. She must hear his grin for she rolls her eyes.

Inches away, her eyes drink in the vision of his shirtless back in the moonlight. Slowly, as if handling a wild bird, her fingers stretch forward.

The warm press of her fingertips in between his shoulder blades almost causes Genji to shiver. She stills as he inhales quietly, before pressing her entirely hand to his spine. Her skin is much softer and kind then the motion of bringing down an ax upon a tree trunk. He almost feels lighter for her touch, as if she’s blessed him with wings herself.

Genji looks forward, allowing Mercy all the exploring that she wants. Where she’s used to wing, he bares nothing. Is his back ugly or misshapen to her? Does it persuade her from wanting to be closer to his beating heart?

In a soft breath, her hand disappears. Genji takes this as her finishing her exploration, but pauses to recollect himself. The moment before he moves to put his shirt back on, a feather brushes gently over his skin. The touch is even softer than her fingertips. It lingers for a moment, in which warmth blooms across his spine. The sensation stumps Genji, as if a falling tree, until he imagines what upon her could be even softer than her hands.

He blinks once in realization, but Mercy is already fluttering over the log and past him. Her eyes stay forward. Wordlessly, she waits for him as her own back faces him now. Her wings still, holding like fragile glass as Genji slowly puts his clothes back on.

He wants to ask. Multiple times his lips part to ask why she grace him with a kiss to his skin, but he never does. Keeping silent, he follows the fairy once more through the dark trees and heavenly silver of the moon.

A part of him is afraid. If he speaks even a word, he’ll shatter the magic with his human voice.

All too soon, they walk into the clearing where they first met. Mercy stills for a few heartbeats, before turning to him. The expression upon her face is unreadable but her eyes are nearly burning tonight.

“Genji,” she starts softly, “I brought you there with the trust that you would never reveal that place to anyone. They are my family, and I will not allow harm to come upon them.”

Genji braces at the low intensity of her words. The fierce protectiveness that drives her into stealing into a lumberjack camp flares outwards. It all comes back to this. Her fight. Her home.

Mercy has given him so much. There is still nothing he can claim to have given to her in return.

“I swear, Mercy,” he speaks.

“Promise upon your name, while touching your heart,” Mercy says, watching him intently.

Just as she swore to him before they set out to see her home. Genji presses his palm to his chest, feeling the drum of his heart.

“I promise upon my name that I will never tell anyone about your home or family,” Genji breathes. The instant he stops speaking, a breeze picks up between the trees, and the moonlight seems to brighten for half a second before everything settles down once more. Lowering his hand, Genji marvels silently at the magic at work. Mercy nods, content.

“Thank you, Genji,” she says. Her face is nearly glowing, without the edge of fear or worry darkening her eyes.

“No, I… Mercy,” he starts, but finds his tongue too swollen for his mouth. “Thank you.”

His few, stumbling words at least make her smile gently in return. That is all he receives get as she steps past him with her glittering wings.

“Hurry back to your camp. You need to rest,” she urges gently.

Genji stalls. His fingers curl as he considers the consequences of taking her hand, but second guesses himself. Instead, he says her name again as a goodbye. When he walks out of the clearing, Mercy is still standing at the edge, with her back to him.

He doesn’t get a chance to address the chaos in his rib cage when a figure standing in between the trees stop him. Blocking his path, a tall, slender woman with burning red hair regards him. As if unpleasantly surprised, her two different colored irises regard him like an insect.

“What is a creature like you doing so far from the others?” her voice rolls with distaste, but holds a superiority that makes Genji’s blood rise in rebellion.

He parts his lips, but silently eyes the woman. Something is off. She doesn’t have any wings, but her ears are pointed like Mercy’s. His senses are screaming at him to leave her presence, but Genji can’t quite move his feet.

The woman looks over him slowly, before something comes together sharply in her eyes. Genji takes a step back.

“Give me your name,” she says, almost alluring.

Something intangible tugs at his tongue, but before he can breathe any words out, a frantic shout comes from behind him. It jars him enough to finally look away from the woman. In moments, thundering wings nearly crash into his shoulder as Mercy’s hand slaps over his mouth.

In seconds, she’s standing between him and the tall, thin woman. Her hand still stays against his lower face, pressed firmly as if she’s afraid to even reveal his lips.

“Don’t speak a word to her, ever,” Mercy orders harshly before half turning to the other woman. As if physically shielding him, Mercy spreads her wings out in front of Genji while glaring.

“Leave. Now, Moira,” Mercy all but hisses.

Malice rolls into the red headed woman’s eyes, which makes Genji want to reach out and pull Mercy back, but he remains still. Whatever this creature is, Mercy doesn’t like her. He almost doesn’t dare to breathe as Mercy still keeps her fingers to his lips.

“Mercy,” she says, dropping her voice into a low tone. “Most of your actions are baffling but this is completely confounding.”

Her two different colored irises suddenly sweep across Genji, as if viewing a disgusting problem. Mercy shifts slightly, still holding tense in front of him.

“I thought the only thing we agreed on was that these lumberjacks need to be removed from the forest,” Moira asks.

“Do not go near any of these men. I am dealing with them,” Mercy’s voice raises sharply.  

The woman leans back, almost unimpressed as her fingertips raise to touch her chest, mockingly aghast. Genji flickers his gaze to Mercy in a heart fearing moment.

“You haven’t dealt with anything, Mercy. This forest is falling bit by bit and you are playing with one of those who are destroying it.”

“A tree does not grow in a single day,” Mercy nearly spits. “I will not ask you to leave again.”

Moira—Genji assumes—looks once more over him before turning away. Her one, off colored eye looks to them in a side glance of judgement.

“You haven’t even planted a seed,” Moira speaks simply. “Careful, Mercy. Humans are just as tricky as us fae folk. This one will make you forget what is important, and it is not any of those men.”

The woman bursts into scattered pieces of sparkling, black-purple smoke that disappears between the trees like a sharp wind. Mercy watches this, even well after any effects linger in the air. Slowly, she turns back to him and lowers her hand. Something shakes in her blue eyes as she dips her head before grabbing his hand.

“Mercy—”

“Don’t talk!” Mercy immediately shushes. “Moira is still close by.”

He clenches his jaw but follows her as she hurries them through the trees. She doesn’t flutter, but tugs him forward in a run before they break into the lumberjack camp. She stops at the edge before swiftly turning to him.

“Don’t tell anyone your name, no matter who asks.” Mercy says as her eyes sweep the forest behind him. “Don’t talk about yourself, or give up anything personal. Don’t trust anyone here.”

“Mercy,” he says, nearly bursting with questions and riled up energy. “Who was that?

“Moira,” her fingers still squeeze tightly around his. “She’s a fae. She is deadly and clever. She… I should have known she would have come here eventually.”

Mercy steps back into the trees. Before she lets go, Genji’s own panic and fear makes him clutch her hand almost in desperation.

“Is she going to hurt you?” he demands.

“No,” she shakes her head. His voice rises harshly in the middle of the night. The lumberjacks, including Hanzo, will return in the morning. Mercy looks around as if worried about being heard. “Is there any other human here?”

“Yes,” Genji says, “Reinhardt.”

“Stay close to him tonight.” She lets go of his hand as she flutters back into the forest. “Don’t leave this camp until morning.”

“Wait, Mercy,” Genji calls out, stopping her from disappearing entirely. “Next week, I’m taking you to show you my home. Remember?”

Now more than ever, she has to see it. Mercy stalls before answering, “Yes.”

Her glowing wings disappear the next moment, as if the burning imprints against his eyelids were never there. Slowly, Genji stumbles back in a daze. Too many things overwhelm his head, but now, his heart beats slowly in worry for Mercy.

She’s quick, and clever. She won’t let herself be harmed by that other woman, Moira. The fae. He has to trust that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Genji brings Mercy to his home, he hopes to persuade her from her mischievous endeavors against the Lumberjack camp.

Before, he would have taken the absence of the fairy at the edge of the treeline as a good omen. It meant the day would go smoothly, without missing tools or axes.

Now, apprehension twists Genji’s insides. There is no hiding his distraction. Hanzo shouts at him several times when he stops chopping to simply stare in between the trees. Glowing wings or a grass dress is nowhere to be seen for the entire week.

The thought of Mercy facing against the dangerous, and looming fae stills his heart. Her abilities are undoubtedly great but he does not know the extent of Moira’s power or influence. Her single demand that he give up his name almost propelled him to do so. If her magic is that strong, what could she do to Mercy?

He clings to her agreement of seeing his home. The week crawls by without any of her visits or sparkling dust. From the long nights he spends watching the forest, to daring to go in deeper just to see if she’ll come to him, he is frustrated. Her last words ring through his mind of the fae.

On a thursday night, Genji starts on the road that leads into town. He could make this trip later in the week, but he’s too anxious to sit and stay put for another night. This will keep him physically occupied at least. Praying that Mercy doesn’t accidently appear the one night he’s gone, Genji hurries through the darkness. The only thing that startles him now is glimpses of a red hair woman at the corner of his vision.

He rushes through town in the middle of the night. Only burning lamp posts light his path as he comes to his own house. As silent as the stars that move above, Genji maneuvers in the dark. The bedroom containing bottles of medicine, wet cloth and extra blankets fill Genji with a sickly sweet scent. In the faint moonlight, his mother’s shallow breathing gives him peace. She doesn’t stir as he enters.

There are still dresses within her drawers. She does not wear them anymore, for age and sickness has taken any need of something formal. Quietly, he eases open the bottom rows to sort through gray fabrics in the darkness. A soft, cotton yellow dress touches his fingertips. The fabric is light and the neckline is edge with white lace. The sleeves stop at the elbows but white lace fringes an extra two inches. Genji has no doubt that it will fit the fairy perfectly.

Refolding the dress, Genji silently closes the drawers and gets to his feet. He pads across the room to his mother’s beside. In the faint moonlight, she still rests. Pain twists and narrows her features even while slumbering.

She doesn’t need to be stressed by Genji’s middle of the night arrival. Quietly, Genji whispers his love for his mother in his native tongue. He tiptoes out of the room, dress in hand, after pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The walk back to the lumberjack camp isn’t so terrifying. Delicately handling the dress, it’s possibilities warm his chest.

He returns before the crack of dawn. Stuffing the dress into the bottom of his cot, it stays out of sight. All but collapsing onto his bed, Genji only gets 45 minutes of rest before the first bell rings out. Hanzo has to push him out of bed. He never sees the dress.

In seconds, Hanzo takes in the dark circles under his eyes and lack of energy.

“I shouldn’t have let you work yourself so hard.” Hanzo is somber as he speaks. His brother’s concern washes over him in the gray morning light.

“I just had a restless night,” he says easily. His reassurance does little to sway the narrow divot in the center of Hanzo’s brow. “Don’t worry about me, brother.”

A frown takes over his mouth as Genji brushes past him to grab his ax. Silence blankets the brothers as they set off to the treeline. Tension wraps heavy cords around Genji’s rib cage at Hanzo’s worry. Between this and and as Hanzo knows, staying over their one day off to keep working, his brother must only assume he’s doing double. Which in turn will make Hanzo want to take more of the burden away from him.

He glances to Hanzo’s backside as he readies a swing. Something bitter spreads across his tongue.

Hanzo didn’t care to believe him the first time he spoke of a fairy. Why would he now?

Clamping his jaw, Genji brings down his ax with exhausted energy and slight discontentment. Mercy will appear soon, and remind him of the value of the midnight journey.

There are no glowing wings or evidence of a trickster among their axes and saws for the entire week. Genji’s splitting wants of getting the job done, and knowing that Mercy is still here threatens to pull him apart. Uneasiness eats the edges of his heart at the red hair fae having done something to Mercy. He forces himself to wait as tired days and long nights drag on without her white gold hair.

Sunday arrives like a blessed sunny day after a storm. The lumberjacks stir and rise early as to make the most of their resting day. Most don’t stay to have breakfast as they’d rather get into town and eat. It takes a little time, but Genji convinces Hanzo to go on without him. Another lie slips between his teeth about working for a few extra hours before coming home to visit Mom.

Between his slight fatigue and ‘working’ last Sunday, he braces for Hanzo to refuse leaving him alone. Instead, he agrees reluctantly, so long as Genji makes it home before dark.

Seeing off his brother, and the few stranglers taking to the road, his legs bounce with impatience. Once alone in the camp, Genji slips off into the treeline. He carries the yellow dress.

Dew glistens on blades of grass as he slips between birches and pines. Tentatively, he calls out her name. His voice disturbs the birds and a few chirping insects. Silence surrounds him, nearly crushing his rib cage with the isolation it enforces.

Leaves quietly shake. Turning his head, the brilliant fairy appears from underneath a large oak. Her wings angle sharply in the sunlight, held as if ready to flee at a moment’s notice. Heaviness surrounds her eyes and weighs down her brow. Upon finding his face, a small smile breaks through the somber mask.

“Hello, Genji,” she greets with a steady breath.

“Mercy.” He steps towards her, pressing the dress to his chest for a moment. The fae woman no longer looms at the back of him mind as Mercy stands before him. “I was afraid you decided I wasn’t lovely enough company.”

“Genji,” she exasperates softly. Her tone shifts to a mock annoyance as she says, “You forget how much hardship I’m willing to endure, especially on such a day as this. If I have to spend more hours with you to see mankind, I suppose I will.”

“Ah, but you endure such things so well,” Genji grins. It loosens her brow ever so slightly as she waves aside his flirt. Her dress of stringed together pine needles fall straight and shift with her every motion.

Silence blankets them in that moment. What was building into lightheartedness collapses like a straw house in a windstorm. Just as quickly as it receded, her intense, dark mood comes crashing back to her eyes. The edges of her wings flutter ever so slightly as she looks to him.

“Are all the men gone?” she asks.

“Yes.”

A sigh loosens from her lips as Genji steps forward once more. There is little space left between them.

“I didn’t see you all week,” he begins in a low voice. “Did Moira try to do something to you?”

“Goodness—no!” she starts. “No, she can’t truly harm me, not without my true… I was keeping her away from your lumberjack camp. She’s much too interested in you men but there is little she can do without me interfering.”

She wearily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, “Keeping her away kept me occupied. Why do you ask such a thing?”

“Why?” Genji blurts out, stunned. “Moira is the only creature I’ve ever seen cause you so much distress.”

She has been guarding the same men who are tearing down her forest. The fae is keeping her from disrupting their work and stalling their progress. Doesn’t Moira want exactly what Mercy wants? The lumberjacks gone? What logic does she follow that allows her to forsake her home in order to give protective to mortal men?

Mercy blinks once at his statement. Slowly, her lips part, as if coming upon a revelation. It seems to burn the tip of her tongue. Shaking her head, Mercy looks away.

“It wasn’t the matter of my own safety that caused me such distress. You must only worry about yourself,” she says. Her eyes return to his, holding meaning he doesn’t understand yet.

“Do you still wish to show me your home?”

Still pondering her expression, Genji holds out the dress. Mesmerized, the fairy’s eyes drink in the bright fabric and swishing lace.

“I know you like your thieving, but maybe you won’t mind me just giving this to you?” he teases gently.

Her eyes flicker up to him before falling back to the dress, as if magnetically compelled. Tentatively, she reaches out a hand to touch the neckline. He presses it into her palms, silently telling her to take it. She hesitate for a moment more before unfolding the dress, revealing its full glory.

“You made me a dress?” she questions, marveling the full summer design.

“I didn’t make it,” he says, sheepish. “It’s my mother’s dress from her younger years.”

“Oh,” she immediately lowers the gown. “Genji, you can’t give this to me.”

“Excuse me?” He squints his eyes, overlooking her features. “Aren’t you the same fairy that stole my scarf and tried to steal my other clothes? And yet you won’t accept a dress that I’m  _giving_  to you?”

“Genji,” she tenses, almost guilty as she looks over it. “This is different.”

“I asked you to come to see my home, and I’m providing a way for you to do that.” He pauses. Musing slightly, the glowing effects of of her butterfly wings still glitter brightly. “I don’t know how to hide your wings and ears though.”

The dress may be strange to her. Too strange for her to consider wearing. Not only that, but the thought of venturing so deeply into a place that is crowded with those she considers her opposition, with only him as her guide, may frighten her. How much of her trust can he hold?

The need to make her understand why he does this work floods his heart. If he must swear upon his name, as they both did in the forest before, he will. Anything to gain her confidence, and to see his reality. The fairy only sees him as a creature that harasses and destroys. He wishes against keeping that within her mind.

In his internal conflict, Mercy closes her eyes. Suddenly, without any indication or glittering magic, her wings disappear. He blinks once as she drapes the dress over one arm, and gathers her loose hair. Taking a vine, she ties up the white gold strands into a ponytail, revealing round, human ears.

A soft exhale leaves his lungs as a smirk almost takes over her mouth. His amazed eyes must be entertaining.

His tongue finally moves to ask, “What else can you do that I don’t know about?”

Her eyes flash with something mischievous as she lifts her chin.

“Don’t worry about such things. Now, turn around,” she speaks.

A small smile appears at her audacity, but Genji gives her privacy. Pressing a hand to the side of his face to further block his vision, he waits for only a few moments. A small prayer moves though his chest that she’s still behind him. Her terrible habits of disappearing without a trace leaves him anxious, especially from such a week as this one.

Her breath of effort echoes before footsteps move to his side. Daring to lower his hand, he takes in the seemingly ordinary woman as she stands before him. If any lumberjack saw her now, they would nothing think the word ‘fairy.’ Curiously, her hands press and twist the fabric resting against her body. The foreign substance keeps her gaze down for a moment more.

“Do I look human?” she asks, holding one end of the skirt. “This dress is lovely, but I don’t shapeshift too often.”

From her tied back hair revealing round ears, and the dress concealing her shoulder blades and any ideas of glowing butterfly wings with it, she is mortal. Just like him. She is any other woman from the town they are about to venture into, but Genji knows. The blue of her eyes marvel at the yellow fabric but the effect of their anger and determination has graced him.

She is ethereal, even when hiding.

“Beautiful,” he says. Her brow raises slightly before he clears his throat. “A beautiful human. You… look like a beautiful woman.”

She looks away in an almost bashful motion before she raises her arms. Slowly, she twirls. The skirt and lace flare out around her legs, like a blossom opening up in the morning. He wants nothing more then to get close enough to peer at the golden nectar of her hair, and the swimming accents of her eyes.

“It’s so strange but wonderful,” she breathes out a smile. The admiration of his mother’s dress pools warmth in his chest. Mercy slowly touches the lace neckline, causing Genji to remember their purpose today.

“Are you ready?” he asks, almost tentatively.

She finds his eyes, and holds them, like cupping a piece of the river in between her fingers. Slowly, she nods.

Drawing a deep breath, he presses his hand over his heart.

“I promise upon my name that no harm will come upon you,” he swears.

Birds and crickets alike seem to pick up in their chirps and songs as the grass ruffles up at their feet. It still startles him to touch magic with just his tongue. A softer, comforted expression tugs at the corner of Mercy’s eyes.

She can trust this. And hopefully, she’ll trust him.

“Let’s go get you some boots,” he says.

At first, she’s curious about the rough, leather soles but soon gets over the novelty. Having her sit on a log, Genji ties the knots before she can adjust to the stiff hold around her ankles. As they take off down the road, she frowns while rubbing the laces together. Genji has to tell her to stop it, least they come undone and she trips herself.

“Why do you humans create such things for your feet?” frustration takes over her tone.

“Not every place we walk is gentle on our soles,” Genji says. He pauses a moment in consider the double meaning of what he just said, but Mercy doesn’t notice. She still eyes the boots with distaste.

They are one size too large, but they are all he could sneak away for her. Working boots are much too rough for a woman to be wearing. Yet, as much as Genji wants to buy her a pair of nice slippers, he can’t afford to. He suspects any pair of shoes would have made her off balance and full of displeasure though.

This is her first time wearing shoes for a long duration of time. Genji smiles at the thought as she walks down the road beside him, quickly growing use to the laces and leather.

The forest has long since fallen before them as they come upon rolling, open fields. Mercy almost seems to move closer to his side as she drinks in the sight. He asks if the open space makes her anxious, but she only shakes her head. To distract her somewhat, Genji begins speaking about his hometown, and family.

Questions occasionally arise from her lips on how humans function in a society and the structure of families. Some of the things she asks, Genji has never considered a question, but he answers as plainly as possible.

Midday, they come over the last hill on the dirt road. Mercy stops at the crest. It takes him a moment to stop too, and look back to her open eyes and the gentle swing of her ponytail. It’s really nothing much. Just a logging town with too few large buildings and too many little cottages.

“You can turn back now, if you want,” Genji says softly. “I won’t stop you.”

“No,” she breathes, finally blinking. She steps forward to stand at his side. “No. Show me your home.”

Breathing out relief, Genji offers his arm. Her eyes look over the gesture before hooking her hand over the crease of his elbow. Her presence slips into his side, nearly electrifying Genji’s chest.

“There are a lot of humans here, especially since the men are home for their one day off,” he says as he takes her down the little road. “There is a festival tonight, celebrating the full summer’s moon. You’ll get to see how we humans dance.”

Mercy perks up visibly as Genji grins.

On her first step into town, Mercy slowly tightens her grip. It’s not too busy, as the direct heat of the day and the lunch hour keeps most everyone inside. A few couples walk down the dusty middle road that runs through the logged buildings on either side. A mother skips with her child as Mercy watches intensely. Three rich men in suits converse under the shade of a slanting roof, just outside of the saloon.

Her fingers tighten around his elbow when she points and asks about this building, or what those people are doing. A man walks by and greets them with a tip of his hat. Mercy stays silent as Genji says hello back. When the man passes by, Mercy looks over her shoulder to watch him go.

“Are you doing alright?” he asks softly, nearly into her ear.

“Yes, yes,” she says quickly, before pointing to the open pavillion at the southwest side of the large buildings. “What is that?”

“That’s where we hold our celebrations,” Genji changes their direction to go towards it. The cherry red wood is dusty now, but tonight, it will be glowing with candlelight and laughter. “It’s the largest building in town.”

“Hey, Genji!”

Mercy stiffens as he turns around to the familiar voice. A lumberjack, finally out of his dirty working clothes, hollers from underneath the shade of a building.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend!” he grins.

Touching over her hand, Genji narrows his brow as he shouts back, “She’s a lady friend!”

“That’s what I called my wife at first, too!” he grins before laughing at his joke. It’s a good thing, for no one else does.

Tensing his jaw as Mercy’s gaze flickers between them, a woman and young boy step out of the building. She sternly takes the lumberjack’s arm, before chaisting him quietly. The boy hugs the man’s legs. Quickly, the man turns his attention to his wife before quickly kissing her cheek. As he pulls away from their embrace, he pats his son’s hair.

“Bring her to the celebration tonight,” the man calls out as his wife takes him away.

Genji offers a curt wave away before looking back to Mercy.

“Don’t mind him. Being obnoxious is in his nature,” Genji apologizes but Mercy is still watching the lumberjack and his family. Following her gaze, he stills.

“Mercy?”

“That’s one of the lumberjacks,” she states quietly.

“Yes,” he answers, not sure if she needed the affirmation.

“He works to supports his wife and child?”

For a heartbeat, he reads the moving thoughts in her mind. Sighing, Genji’s shoulders nearly slump.

“We all work to support our families,” he says.

Her face becomes hard, unreadable. Even as they continue on, she glances back once. The wonder and amazement of a place not of her own is fading into something else. Even her grip loosens from his arm as they walk towards the end of town. More log homes are built at the edges. Blending in with the humans, the stark fear of being discovered fades back as he takes he between houses.

The effect Genji intended is working into her irises. Slowly looking up and down, the wooden houses reveal humans walking in and out of the doors. Children ran around the front of their home. There are a few gatherings as husbands and sons return to their family from their work in the forest.

He takes her through the wooden cottages that shelter their heads and keep families close together. The fairy’s brow furrows as she drinks this in. Genji stays silent, letting the sight of his home leave its impressions.

At the very edge of the town, a small, three room, wooden house awaits. Genji can’t help but watch her as she eyes its distance from the other buildings. It’s humble by all means, and has given away to time and weather. Simple square glass panes act as windows. It’s a poor man’s home. Genji is no stranger to this fact.

It’s never been the same since their mother became sick.  

“Welcome to my home,” he gestures one hand forward to the small cottage.

She surveys it sharply, before peering sideways at him.

“I could barge right in and start tearing it down,” she says in a flat tone.

Genji squints at the fairy as she swings her ponytail haughtily.

“But I’m not going to; because I’m not destructive and selfish.”

He knows this is rib. He knows this her making a point. Yet, her standoffish and angry attitude while appearing so sweet and mild makes Genji put a hand over his mouth to smother laughter. It rumbles out of his throat and shakes his torso as Mercy’s eyes land sharply upon him, stunned.

“I wasn’t making a joke,” she says, stepping away from him swiftly.

“I… I know you weren’t. “His attempts to speak and quieten his laughter fail miserably. “I just… Look at you! You’re such an angry fairy.”

Her mouth almost curls into a pout before she stops herself. Straightening her dress, she glares at him.

“Yes, I’m angry!” She crosses her arms.

“I’m sorry! I truly am,” he still laughs. “I just love how passionate you are and how you keep surprising me.”

His words touch her strangely. They almost stun her once more, for she falls into silence. A dazzling light touches her eyes, like water in the sunshine. A slow creep of pink touches her cheeks before she tucks a stray bang behind her ear. Losing any trace of agitation, Genji stops laughing at her still person.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time. Worry of truly offending her now cools his chest.

“Genji,” her voice carries like a breath blowing away dandelion seeds. “I—”

“Genji?”

They both turn their heads to the open door of his house. In the doorway, Hanzo stands. Hard eyes flicker between Mercy and Genji, narrowing his brow suspiciously.

“Hanzo,” Genji says quickly, recovering. “I would like you meet someone.”

“Must she be here?” Hanzo speaks curtly, much to Mercy’s narrowed brow. “Mom is sleeping.”

Slight anger flares in his chest as his stark rudeness, especially in Mercy’s presence. Apologetically looking back to her, Genji steps forward to face his brother.

He’s brought girls here before, but only for moments, never the whole night. Hanzo has never appreciated his skirt chasing tendencies but this isn’t a romantic affair. If Mercy is to understand what he fights for, she needs to see everything. The image Hanzo presents is far from ideal.

“Hanzo, she’s not staying here for long,” Genji says lowly. “I wanted to introduce you to a… lady friend.”

“I assume you’re taking her to the festival tonight?” Hanzo straightens slightly, annoyed but not surprised.

“Yes, I am,” he emphasizes his voice before stepping back to Mercy’s side.

“Mercy, this is my older brother, Hanzo,” he gestures, as if he’s not terribly sharp and cold at the moment. She knows of him, and their relation, but has never been face to face.

“Hanzo, this is Mercy…” Genji stumbles as he realizes that the fairy only possess one name. In contract to surnames that humans need, she will appear strange, if not outright suspicious.

“Ziegler,” she speaks up before Hanzo can narrow his brow even more. “Mercy Ziegler. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Genji has told me much about you.”

Genji side eyes the fairy as she smiles politely at his brother.

“Hello,” Hanzo says, then, “Excuse me.”

He closes the door swiftly.

Groaning, Genji faces the confused fairy.

“My brother,” he deadpans.

“He’s almost as charming as you,” Mercy muses while arching her brow. “Are all humans like that?”

“No, definitely not,” he speaks firmly. “He’s an outlier.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Genji offers his arm as he turns away. Her hand slips effortlessly against the crook of his elbow as he starts forward. They’ll come back later tonight. When Mom is awake, Mercy will get the chance to meet her. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is still much Genji must show Mercy, but, defined lines are suddenly becoming blurry.

“Ziegler?” he asks as they cross back through the houses. Side eyeing the fairy, she straightens at the question.

“Oh,” she says, like an afterthought. “I heard it from a young couple as they traveled through the forest. I think they were newlyweds. The woman kept calling herself Mrs. Ziegler, and the man would smiled at how starstruck she was by the title.”

A smile pushes itself onto his lips as he pictures the love struck couple.

“When was that?”

Mercy ponders for a moment before saying, “About 50 winters ago.”

Stopping dead, he looks at her in the bright sunlight. She blinks once at him.

“50 winters?” he speaks bluntly. “That’s 50 years. That would make you—how old are you?”

His intensity causes confusion to build up before her face suddenly lifts.

“I forget how differently humans age,” she says. “I’m 103 winters old.”

Genji sputters once. Taking in her smooth skin and light, blonde hair, she couldn’t be over 30.

“How old are you?” she asks, only curious. The bewilderment taking over him nearly makes him speechless.

“25,” he says in a very underwhelming tone. Her brow raises at the number but she recollects herself quickly.

“Fairies age differently… To compare my age in human winters—years makes me, I believe, a little older than yourself,” her voice rises slightly in uncertainty, but she deems it satisfying.

His gaze can’t lift away from her eternal blue eyes. Life already holds itself wise within her brow and cheekbones, but it doesn’t engrave marks or wrinkles. Energy moves her on light feet. The sun itself keeps up with her flutters and dashes.

“Am I that strange to you?” she asks playfully.

“Not at all,” Genji breathes. “You just keep surprising me.”

Once again, something soft touches her eyelids before Genji pulls her along.

It’s already late afternoon by the time he pays for a light meal from the baker. The small portions are the most he can afford, although Mercy views the concept of money as useless. Still, she reassures Genji that they have more than enough to eat.

Finding a shady tree, Mercy tastes sweet cream filled pastries while they survey the town. Her questions are endless. Some are too abstract for him to answer entirely, such as when humans first came into existence and decided to build homes that shield them from nature itself. How long the homes take to build and how many trees they use is what he can answer.

She asks once about his father and mother. Hesitating, he promises to explain later, after the festival. Curiosity spread across her brow but she leaves the subject alone for now.

Through the shops, Mercy touches all sorts of trinkets and items. Clothing, goods and even children’s toys entertain her as wary shopkeepers watch her pockets. Genji only smiles at her innocence wonder. Thousands of more questions flood her tongue at the purpose of tools and human inventions.

Mercy observes openly. Whenever they past by others, she studies their movements and clothes. If any say hello, she mimics Genji’s greeting. The first time she approaches someone without Genji directly at her side, it’s to a woman with a newborn in her arms. The hidden fairy coos and awes at the infant as the woman glows happily.

Genji almost doesn’t notice she’s taken off until he spies her across the street.

Evening falls. There is no doubt that everyone is flocking to the pavilion for the music and food that will fill heavy hearts. Mercy asks how many humans there will be. Guessing at around a few hundred souls, she continues to watch them move candlesticks on posts and open the center floor for dancing.

It’s their own enchanting land. He attempts to make out what she sees. A large building, lit with hundreds of candles and warm bodies. There is no hunger. There is no cold tonight.

Hanzo is nowhere in sight. There is no reason to be disappointed but Genji feels it all the same. He’s always at home with Mom when they come back into town. The celebrations are what give Genji joy, but Hanzo doesn’t dare give into self-indulgence while their mother lies in bed. The worry in his brother’s eyes at what he thinks is Genji working extra hours suddenly cools his chest.

Hanzo is standoffish, and strict, but he has a silent care for his family. A quiet wish echoes internally for Hanzo to be here as he shows the fairy their home.

Nearly all of the lumberjacks are here in the festival. Fathers hold children on their laps, making sure they eat the green beans too. Husbands are taking their wives’ hands as they either dance, or stay off to the side, whispering humorous things into the other’s ear. Sons are still visiting with their younger siblings and parents. Young men are courting their desires with flowers and asking them for the first dance.

Mercy and Genji sit on a table far from the candlelight. Turned around on the bench, she leans forward. Drinking in the life before her, she doesn’t blink. He observes as well. The festival holds nothing new but Mercy still watches it all. He tries to decipher whatever conclusion she is coming to about his home.

The fiddles change to a faster beat. Quickly, couples shoot onto the dance floor while taking their places in formation. Men stand across from the women. A well known couples dance is about to begin.

Getting to his feet, Genji offers his hand. Her eyes sparkle, intrigued as she looks to him.

“I know you can dance,” he grins, almost like a challenge. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

She knows this trick. She used it herself on him. Slowly, a smile breaks out on her lips as she slips her gentle fingers into his grasp.

“What could a fairy possibly be afraid of?”

Genji pulls her to her feet. Leaning in close, his heart flutters as he nearly kisses her hair.

“A lumberjack.”

The immovable, strong form of her smile tells him otherwise. Taking her to the center of the pavilion, they break through the crowd to slip into the dance. At Genji’s instruction, she falls beside the first woman as Genji takes his place after the first man. They begin, circling each other while the woman giggles at something the man says. They briefly touch hands, palms to palms as they twirl and rush down the line of dancers. The couple finishes by taking up the end of the line.

Genji steps forward just as Mercy senses her turn. Something bubbly keeps his footsteps light as he slows his movements for her to keep up. There is no need. She’s already twirling her yellow skirt around him.

When they press their hands together, she clutches his tightly. Fingers interlock despite going against the proper dance routine as they run through the dancers to the very end. A lumberjack calls out to Genji. It’s something obnoxious, but Genji doesn’t hear it as they fall back into line.

He leads her through the repeating, simple dances but they stay alive. As if the sun never set in his soul, Genji laughs and breathes with the movements. Mercy steps and twirls her dress. For once, heaviness and protectiveness cease to plague her features. She is the dove let go in the morning to let the day chase after her.

The patterns and motions easily fall into her muscles. When they come back together, she’s blatantly, entirely, unafraid of being close to him. Her bangs fall into her eyes until Genji brushes them back. His hand rest on her hip and takes her fingers gently. Her palms warm his skin as she graces his shoulder with a feather light touch.

It ends, without warning or prompt. Music dies away. The dancers fall back but Genji still spins with Mercy in his arms. It’s as if the world left them alone in the candlelight and rushing hearts. He only breathes with her blue eyes filling his gaze. Red cheeks stain his every thought.

Their twirl comes to a crawl, before slowly down entirely. Her hand holds to his shoulder. A rushing waterfall falls into his rib cage. Does she feel his heart? Does she feel his wild lungs and scared hands?

Yellow baths her in heavenly essence. Her bangs have fallen into her face once more as she looks up to him. Tentatively, her fingers squeeze his hand as it’s still clutched tightly.

“Mercy?” he breathes out near silently. There is no reason to ask for her, yet he does.

She look up to him. There is too little distant between their chests.

“You humans are so strange,” she whispers.

“Is that such a bad thing?” His question holds his heart. Unconsciously, he steps closer.

Mimicking his advance, pine needles and water lilies overcome his senses as the hidden fairy breaks the invisible barrier between their warm bodies.

“I’m starting to not think so,” she murmurs, a confession.

Slowly, he takes his hand from her hip. The very tips of his fingers tuck white gold strands behind her seemingly normal ear. His hand doesn’t fall away. As if possessed with it’s own need, it cups her cheek as her lips suddenly near.

Electricity buzzes as he leans forward. A longing he has never truly let surface before takes over his blood. The gentle air of her breath graces his lips. There remains only a sliver of space between their mouths, almost touching.

Clapping erupts, startling them both into pulling away. Mercy’s hand curls into her chest as cheering comes from the townspeople. Wide eyes take in the loudness with a reflective fear of humans. A few lumberjacks whistle. Hoots and hollers roar through the rowdy men. A few women sigh dreamily into their handkerchiefs. A girl yells out to kiss him harder.

Almost angry, Genji turns away from them to find pink coloring Mercy’s skin, from cheekbone to cheekbone. His frustration dies away as he wraps his arm around her waist. She tugs him away from the open floor, securing his hold. He waves off everyone as they dissolve into laughter and jokes about the couple being too shy.

They only mean to celebrate new love. No ill intent is meant. Newlyweds especially get this treatment when they forget where they are and dissolve into kissing in the middle of the dance floor. It’s nothing new.

Genji never believed he would end up in the same situation, much less have their kiss interrupted.

Almost on the adrenaline of danger, Mercy slips out of his hold but grips his hand. As she nearly runs out from under the large roof of the pavilion, Genji follows her. He says her name. Her fingers squeeze his palm as she continues to pull him forward.

“Mercy!” he stops then, clutching her wrist as well to slow her. “It’s alright. They weren’t mocking us.”

Tension runs through the lace along the back neckline of her yellow dress. For a moment, Genji envisions her wings stiffly holding in stress. All at once, she lets go of his hand. His fingers slowly slip from her skin after pausing a moment to insure she doesn’t bolt.

“There are so many of your kind,” she breathes out in a whisper. Half of her face turns back, but not directly to look at him. “I am ignorant of what is outside of the forest. Here I am, stealing into your home and witnessing all of your precious moments.”

“Mercy,” Genji almost exasperates, “You’re not stealing anything here.”

Mercy turns slowly to face him, like coming to the edge of a battlefield. What he thought was fright plays across her eyes as conflict, and uncertainty. Anguish even seeps into her cheekbones. His hand almost raises to touch her cheek, but he lowers it before she notices his slight twitch.

“Do you still want to destroy my home?” she asks.

His lungs freeze. Slowly, his heart climbs into his throat as he holds her gaze.

“No. I never wanted to but I… My family needs me to do this work.”

A small, heartbreaking, but understanding smile haunts her lips like a ghost. The lakes of her eyes waver like a rainstorm falling upon its surface. The sight of her open grief gathers in his throat.

“I don’t want to destroy your home either…” she murmurs. The edge of determination that keeps her burning soul going after more men than she could ever hope to stop herself shines through. “But I have to protect my family.”

He didn’t sway her. She still won’t stop. What he’s wanting and asking of her is a most terrible, selfish thing but he needs it. Neither is more deserving than the other, but he still puts his family above all else.

He steps forward. Her wavering eyes take in his abrupt motion, startled.

“Please,” he almost begs. “There’s someone you need to meet.”

The fairy hesitates before reading the desperate curve of his brow and shaking light in his eyes. With only a nod, she follows him into the night. The burning center of the pavilion falls to their backs as Genji guides her back through wooden homes.

“My father died when I was young,” he begins to tell her as they hurry through the looming cottages. “We lost our money then. For a long time, my mother managed to take care of my brother and I.”

They come to the edge of the homes, where one lone house sits in the darkness.

“Half a year ago, my mother became ill.”

It was sudden. Like a lightning strike on a clear blue day. The protective, ever steady warmth of his mother fell to the earth. The strength his mother possesses is incomparable. To watch her suddenly lose the blood in her cheeks and become too weak to even lift a spoon shook his core.

It still does.

“There is nothing to cure it.” The truth rushes off of his tongue as if afraid someone will stop him from speaking. His hand clutches hers. “The doctor told us it was a disease in her bone marrow. Something that can’t be taken away, or stopped. The medicine to stop her pain is expensive.”

That is all the medicine does. It eases her into a state where she can sleep away the worst of it.

“Hanzo and I have worked through everything to keep up with it’s cost, but it is worth more than our wages combined.”

She needs to understand. He’s fighting for his family too.

Small light seeps through the window panes as he gentle opens the door of his house. Mercy’s face morphs into quiet concern as he takes her inside. The simple state of his home is humbling, as only three rooms take up the space. The first, open area combines the kitchen and living space, along with a small hearth. In the back, two bedrooms hold poor, stuffed mattresses. Hanzo and Genji have shared a room since he was an infant.

Low flames crackle in the hearth, nearly dying into heated coals. Hanzo is nowhere to be seen, but he couldn’t have gone far; not while he’s taking care of Mom. He’ll be back shortly with firewood.

The fairy slowly surveys the room. From the wooden floorboards to the ceiling, her open eyes takes it all in.

Genji doesn’t stop. His heartbeat picks up as he takes her to the entrance of his mother’s room. It is closed, but Genji takes the rusted knob with his free hand.

“Be as quiet as possible,” he whispers. Mercy nods once, already glancing to the door.

“Are you sure, Genji?” she asks, near silent.

He looks to her as he eases the creaking hinges open. There is no candle burning in the dark of the room. It is nearly bare, save for the dresser, bed and nightstand. Lumpy, thick blankets nearly hide the figure lying on the mattress. A quiet moan rises as their footsteps gently tap across the floor.

Genji swears a gasp leaves Mercy’s lips as he lets go of her hand to step forward. Her presence falls behind him as he kneels on the floor, as if ready to pray at the side of the bed.

“Mom,” he murmurs quietly, “Do you need more medicine?”

Upon her pillow, black hair spills out. It once shined in elaborate updos but now remains barely kept and dull. Pale, nearly translucent skin reveals the state of her body. His mother’s face is strong, defined like Genji’s own features, but sickness weights down every inch. An echo of strength resides in her cheeks as she struggles to lift her eyelids. She takes in his face, before closing them with relief.

He finds her hand among the blankets, and squeezes it. Cold fingers remain limp and unmoving, save for a weak twitch in an attempt to squeeze his palm.

“Genji,” a voice as frail as the last remaining petal upon a cherry blossom tree before winter claims it speaks. The pain echoing in her tone cannot be missed. Every breath is a struggle within her chest. “You make me… wait… just to see my… youngest son.”

A rare smile touches the corners of his mouth.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see you sooner,” he whispers. His fingers wrap carefully around her wax like hand.

He turns back. The hidden fairy is dead still, as if afraid of intriguing on something intimate. Her lips are parted, as if still gasping at the sight of the sickness. Empathy knits her brow into wrinkles as liquid nearly shines in her eyes. Slowly, her gaze falls upon him. Her mouth closes, definitive. A quiet resolution takes over her eyes in one blink.

“Mom,” he speaks gently. “I have brought someone that I want you to meet.”

Visitors has ceased from this household a long time ago. Partly because she uses sleep as an escape from the pain. There is nothing to be shameful of, but like Hanzo, there is pride in his mother’s shoulders. A small wince of displeasure washes over her still closed eyes. Genji squeezes her hand in reassurance.

She breathes out in a quiet groan. Easing one eye half open, she looks around Genji. Wordlessly, Mercy steps forward like a leave falling to the forest ground.  

“She… is important,” she murmurs. There is no question. Weight lifts from his heart, freeing him with her approval.

Bowing his head, he presses his forehead to her cold knuckles. A quiet will and hope of her overcoming her illness still strums against his ribs. In Hanzo’s eyes, it’s just a matter of time. It’s vain but he still prays that she stays just long enough.

“Mom,” he speaks, “This is Mercy.”

Turning back to her star like eyes, Genji smiles softly.

“Mercy, this is my mother, Umi.”

Almost as if she shouldn’t intrude, but still wants to know, Mercy takes one step closer. Her expression gradually softens as she comes to stand beside his kneeling form.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Umi,” Mercy’s voice stays as soft as her lips.

His mother’s half open eye stays upon the supposed woman. Nervousness threatens the edges of his soul, but soon wans as the slightest crinkles appear around her eyes. Even her sickness can’t take away the happiness in her pale skin.

“Mercy…” she drags out of her stricken mouth. “So you… are.”

Managing to lift her other eyelid, only to the bare minimum, sepia irses fall back upon Genji. The light in them is dull and faded, but still flickering. Unconsciously, his hand tightens slightly around his mother’s.

“I would have… thought… Hanzo to bring me… his love first… but you are not one to wait… by the river.”

A wheeze moves through her lungs, causing her to hunch her shoulders and squeeze her eyes. Genji stirs, getting to his feet. The heart shuddering noise stirs his worst fears as he goes to the nightstand. Mercy watches him intently, shifting her heavy gaze from him to his mother.

Genji opens his mouth as he works a metal cap off of a brown glass bottle, but clanks his teeth shut instead. There is no need to correct her assumption about his relationship with Mercy. She almost smiled tonight. That is all Genji needs to go back to backbreaking work and sweat drenching long hours.

As for Mercy’s thoughts on his mother’s impression, Genji can only guess.

A small glass takes the near black liquid Genji pours into it. It could almost be poison itself, were it not the only thing that eases his mother’s painful days.

He comes back to the bed. Mercy’s fingers are gently curled around a waxy hand. His mother either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t mind as Genji brings her medicine. Leaning over the bed, his hand slips underneath her head as he props her up. Gently bringing the cup to her lips, she weakly sips the syrup. A small, dark stain sticks to her lips as he eases her back onto the pillow. A moan moves through her, causes Genji to inwardly wince. The anguish on her ghost like groans hides so much more.

It seems to take to her veins immediately as a sort of pity. Another pain scrapping breath leaves her throat as she turns her head, and lays still. From how she only lays down, and hardly keeps awake, she could be mistaken for a corpse. That image alone has jutted nightmares into the back of his mind.

He takes a white handkerchief from the table and wipes her mouth. The motion pierces his heart, for it used to be her steady hands wiping dirt off of his cheeks.

Once the cup and handkerchief are put away, his mother doesn’t stir again. He comes to stand beside the hidden fairy. What moves behind her gaze is a mystery. Concern riddles the tension in her jaw, but she doesn’t look away from his mother’s painful sleep.

This is Genji’s last attempt. If she can’t understand this, she won’t understand any other part of his motivates or reasons. He doesn’t destroy simply to destroy. He works day after day, alongside his brother, to give their mother the slightest bit of comfort in her pain ridden body.

His mother sleeps now. She won’t know that he speaks to a fairy.

“Mercy,” he whispers still.

He draws a deeper breath when her eyes find him in the dark room. Something burns, and something wavers within blue irises.

“I can heal her,” she speaks as if uttering an answer to a prayer.

His entire body stills on the spot. There is no mischievousness, no anger or malice playing along the bangs that fall into her eyes. It’s as if she’s as desperate as him.

“What?” he asks, still frozen. The hope of her words want to flood his chest, but he refuses to open a dam just to see a bone dry trench. “What do you mean?”

“My magic will make her whole again,” she is pleading with him now, “Let me heal her, Genji.”

Her eyes move into his soul. They both hold together, in the dark room at his mother’s sick bedside. There is only one thing they can agree on.

“Mercy,” his voice gives a strained echo, almost cracking. “Please. If you can save her, do so.”

She turns away as she steps closer to the headboard. Gently, she peels back his mother’s blanket. Folding it in half just at her waist, the light from the small window pane reveals thin bones and paper skin taking his mother’s form. Her nightgown seems to cling to a skeleton. She doesn’t move at the new, cool air. The medicine keeps her under.

Genji moves closer to Mercy, still not entirely baring his heart to the fairy’s sure movements. The devastation of a false promise keeps him guarded, but bright light circles his eyes.

If anyone could remove the plague affecting his entirely family, it is Mercy.

As if witnessing lightning striking a lake’s calm surface, Mercy’s hands begin to glow. A pure, heavenly light beams in her fingers and palms. His breath holds in his lungs. Glittering after effects follow her movements as she leans over his mother.

Her three, middle fingers press lightly to her forehead. Lifting away, she then touches over her heart. Lastly, through the fabric of her nightgown, Mercy touches her navel.

“ _Umi_ ,” she murmurs on her tongue. Sparkling yellow lingers on his mother’s body from where the fairy touched her. Three distinct circles glow in a straight line.

Genji looks to the window as the smell of grass and rushing water fills his senses. The moon momentarily seems to brighten. Turning back, the fairy raise her one hand, as if prompting a dead man to rise from a grave. A series of strange words are spoken on her tongue, but their meaning impresses warmth into his mind.

Her enchantment finishes. Slowly, the light from her hands and the glowing imprints on his mother fade away. Darkness threatens to swallow them, but it does not frighten him. Relaxing her shoulders, Mercy lowers her hand. She steps away to find his open expression. Almost stunned, he steps to the bed.

It’s impossible. He’s seen the sickness in her skin and the weakness in her body. For months he’s prayed that she won’t be taken away too early. Hanzo’s and Genji’s blood and sweat have gone into medicine that only takes the edge off of the pain.

His mother’s cheeks shine. Her hair is luscious, and almost shines. Wrinkles still mar her skin with time but there is nothing twisting up her eyelids in agony. She breathes deeply. The sound of a simple gush of air, without rattling aches or groaning pains, floods Genji’s heart.

He touches her hand. Warm fingers reflectively curl around his, as if she senses her son’s touch.

Pulling away, Genji finds the creature responsible. She leans away slightly, giving an illusion of privacy. Her eyes raise at his stare. There is softness, and heavy consideration pulling apart her thoughts, but she holds steady. Nothing is regretful among her features.

Genji steps forward, almost stumbling. She begins to part her lips to say something when Genji wraps his arms around her. Thick emotion takes his throat. Squeezing his eyes, his arms grip her shoulders like a lifeline. Burying his cheek against her hair, he can hardly breathe. Weight from the impending death that would haunt this house suddenly lifts. His soul is light, as if touched by an angel’s merciful hand.

Not an angel’s. A fairy’s.

His hold startles her. Her lower arms are free from his vice like grip. Her hands hold up slightly, stunned. Then slowly, like a petal falling from a flower, she slips her arms around his waist. What was once stiff now molds into his hold, like a hand into a glove. A deep sigh moves through her, but it is unburden.

The next morning, his mother will get out of bed, on her own two feet. She won’t moan until he or Hanzo gives her medicine. The bed won’t be the only thing containing her agonizing days. She will breathe without pain. She will walk without weariness.

She’ll live to see more of Hanzo’s and Genji’s lives.

Mercy gave this to him. Her name blesses his entire being. Without prompt, or driven with a selfish motive, she saved their family. Genji’s grip tightens around her. It is nearly impossible, but he opens his trembling jaw.

“Thank you.”

Her cheek moves, giving away a hidden smile as she leans against him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji’s and Hanzo’s mother is healed but something doesn’t seem right to Hanzo.

Most of the townspeople don’t believe in the stories of the forest and the mystical creatures hiding within, but a few still do. At Mercy’s request, he promises upon his name to never speak a word of the true nature of his mother’s recovery. That night, despite Genji’s objections, Mercy leaves to her forest alone.

Hanzo returns to the house with kindling. Unloading the wood as Genji kneels beside the hearth, he stills. His dark eyes go look over the near blissful state his younger brother resides in. Hanzo asks about the girl. Genji tells a half lie, and says she went back to her hometown.

He doesn’t get to know the truth. It’s better if he believes it was just a miracle instead of the work of a fairy. How Hanzo will find their mother in the morning will turn his world back right side up. He may be foolish to hope so, but perhaps there won’t be any hardness to Hanzo’s features at seeing their mother well.

Genji can hardly sleep that night. When he does, it seems only moments pass before Hanzo is shaking him away. His eyes are wide. An unspoken disbelief prompts his jaw open

His composure hides what he already knows. As his older brother leads him to their mother’s room, he can’t help but think of the glowing effects of the fairy in the darkness.

She sits on the edge of her bed. A blanket is wrapped around her shoulders, but bright, aware eyes take in their open faces. The wrinkles around her eyes increase with a smile. What was once waxy skin and frail bones is now healthy, and strong. She holds out her arms, inviting her sons closer. The urge to hold her sons in her arms causes her to lean forward.

Genji’s breath falls right out of his lungs. Even with prior knowledge, he rushes to his mother’s embrace like a child seeking comfort. Right beside him, Hanzo loses the intensity circling his eyes. Instead, vulnerability engulfs his cheekbones. As if he’s almost afraid of what is too good to be true.

Her arm tightens around his shoulder. Soft fingertips brush through his hair as she murmurs their names. No longer afraid of breaking glass, Genji hugs her back. The strength of her person underneath his arms fills his throat with emotion.

“Mom,” Hanzo breathes out. “I don’t understand.”

They fall back to sitting on either side of her on the bed. Her hands still lay on their arms. Her long, black hair falls down her back. She’s beautiful, in an elegant, aged form. Slowly, her gaze moves between both of them.

“I don’t either,” she says, but still holds her grin. Even her voice is replenished and steady.  

“Do you feel alright?” Genji asks carefully. He can’t refuse this hope anymore.

She raises her eyes slightly, as if reminiscing on a nightmare. The sepia color gleams with intelligence.

“I almost forgot what it felt like to not be in pain,” she murmurs. “I’m healed, somehow.”

Hanzo’s gaze finds him, still tumbling over the fact that their mother is sitting up on her own. He almost seems hesitant, as if refusing to believe it can be real. This could be just a dream he’ll wake up from.

“A miracle,” Genji gasps.

Their mother’s eyes close for a moment before she sighs.

“I had a dream that an angel visited me.” She turns to him. “She looked exactly like your love, Genji.”

He doesn’t waver at the implication. Neither of them could possibly imagine the truth. He looks to his older brother; something hard takes back his eyes. The slightest divot appears in his brow.

“Mercy?” he questions, playing up his shock. “That is a strange dream.”

“It was just a dream,” she dismisses. The smile on her lips doesn’t tremble, or threaten to make her tired from the lone action. Hanzo’s suspicious gazes moves back over to their mother. Gently, he covers her hand with his. A quiet fear plagues him of this disappearing in a blink of an eye.

His lips part, but Genji resists the urge to tell him that they truly aren’t losing their mother anytime soon.

“Mom,” Hanzo says quietly. “Are you sure you feel alright?”

It’s overwhelming to go from worrying about hearing of their mother’s death after a few days have gone by, to suddenly seeing her clear gaze. The effect of his mother’s health still lifts Genji’s heart. It steals his breath as Mercy presses to his mind. She is the who made this possible. Hanzo is afraid that this may be the high before the crash, but Genji knows otherwise.

She’ll see another white winter, and a glorious, warm spring.

“I have never felt so peaceful,” she proclaims with a chuckle. The sound, like the first splatter of rain after a drought, strikes through both brothers. Lowering his shoulders, hope finally touches Hanzo’s cheeks. Genji smiles through the emotion blocking his throat.

They can’t stay. Most of the lumberjacks are already shambling outside into the gray dawn light. A nurse will still come to stay with their mother, just in case. For the first time in an unbearable period, they leave their home with kisses from their mother on their temples.

He carries it with a proud heart, no longer fearful.

Hanzo is almost too distracted to notice that he’s stepping into a hole in the road. His brother’s thoughts must be churning at this—for lack of a better word—miracle.

For show, Genji rambles on about his shock of seeing their mother so healthy. After months of her laying in bed, she’s sitting up. It’s partly true, just as most of his other lies have been. Returning to work, to know now that their mother’s bright eyes wait on them, gives strength to his bones.

The first shadow falls from the edge of the trees. Lifting his heavy brow, Hanzo lays piercing eyes upon Genji.

“Hanzo?” he asks. “Are you alright?”

Something unreadable shifts behind his eyes.

“That woman you took to the festival,” he begins concisely, “Where did you meet her?”

The joy in his heart immediately cools. Genji’s expression hardens slightly, but he keeps his voice level.

“In town, a few weeks back. It was brief, and she was passing through. She accepted my offer when I asked her to go.”

“And where is she from?” he asks while a deep divot appears in his brow. Genji looks straight ahead. The road winds and twists before them.  

Something sour spreads across his tongue when he says, “Why the sudden questions about Mercy? You hardly bothered to speak to her yesterday.”

“Our mother is suddenly rising up in the morning as if she was never on death’s bed,” Hanzo’s voice rises sharply. “Don’t you find that strange?”

Turning his face slowly, the uncertainty and concern brimming Hanzo’s person tugs at Genji’s chest. Fear of the unknown has always kept Hanzo on edge. He’s worried for him and their mother. For a heartbeat, to ease his brother, the truth wants to fly off of his tongue.

The first day he met the fairy crashes to the front of his mind. Hanzo didn’t believe him then. He doesn’t deserve the chance to now.

“Mom isn’t dying anymore. I’m happy with just that,” he stamps decisively with his teeth. Narrowing his brow, he holds it over Hanzo. “You should be, too.”

“I am, Genji,” he nearly snaps, “But that woman… As I think back on her, she feels off. As if she’s not quite what she appears to be.”

“What are you saying, Hanzo?” Genji stops in his tracks, forcing his brother to do the same. “That somehow Mercy healed Mom and that it’s a bad thing?”

He knows how harsh his voice is, and how cruel he’s being, but emotions are spilling over without any hope of gaining control. They are still going back to destroy the home of a the fairy who saved their mother. His brother doubted him when he needed his support most. He can’t hope to repay Mercy back for this gift. Guilt and shame eat at the ends of his ribs, threatening to collapse him entirely.

Hanzo is immovable. Nothing breaks or cracks besides the stubborn knowledge that this isn’t as simple as it looks. One sharp locks falls into his face, nearly cutting his expression in half.

“I don’t know,” he breathes. The fists he holds clenches tighter.

“Don’t leave the camp without telling me, Genji.”

Genji huffs out a haughty breath. Turning away, he begins walking once more without waiting for his brother.

He doesn’t see Hanzo’s brow give away to concern.

They travel down the road in silence. It only breaks when they enter the camp. The other lumberjacks talk about the celebration, masking some of the tension between the two brothers. A few even ask Genji about the woman he was dancing with, and seemed so enchanted by. They hardly know the reality of it all.

Before Genji goes into the woods, eagerly awaiting a certain fairy’s reappearance, Hanzo’s eyes follow him into the treeline. Shifting the ax in hand, Genji slips away. He doesn’t get too far before Hanzo’s steps break through the foliage. One glance back nearly makes frustration break through his throat, but he doesn’t say a word. Silently, he stops and begins chopping. Moments later, Hanzo’s ax swings into the tree beside him.

Not one word is exchange through the entire work day. He knows exactly what his brother is doing. Genji’s thoughts are boiling, and only shimmer at the thought of cupping Mercy’s cheek underneath the pavilion.

The wall of strain between them continues even into the night. Genji can’t even glance into the darkness between the trees without finding Hanzo’s sharp eyes following his gaze. A dozen curses echo through his mind. His dinner has long since lost its taste as Mercy tumbles through his thoughts.

Now he has to deal with his brother’s suspicion. He’s being kept from even thanking Mercy tonight. Agitation flares out of him like a wildfire. Although, the sight of his mother this morning still holds a warm place in his chest.

His impatient heart is forced to be still until everyone is laid away in their cots. Double checking Hanzo’s still form beside him, Genji slips on his boots, and disappears into the trees.

He presses back a tree branch, and finds a glowing aura. In the dark, it could be mistaken for a fallen star. The fairy’s wings are known only to him. She’s sitting on a log, and straightens with eagerness at his sudden appearance.

“I saw you had returned,” Mercy says, almost looking away bashfully. “You were busy today, but I wanted a moment to talk with you.”

“You can have every second of my time,” Genji speaks, causing her brow to lift in amusement.

“I just need a moment,” she chuckles. Her hands are loosely held over a beautiful violet dress made of strips of tree bark and tulips. Elegantly, she shifts her legs to the side as Genji settles onto the grass beside the log. Placing one elbow on top of the log, he leans a little closer to Mercy. His chin tilts up just to see her face in the darkness.

“What do you want to talk about?” A cool breeze runs over his bare arms.

She looks away, staring forwards to where the last few trees hide the lumberjack camp. A quiet sigh moves through her lungs. The urge to reach out and take her hand and ask what’s on her mind tugs at Genji’s fingers. Instead, he holds still.

“How’s your mother?” she asks first.

“I honestly never thought I would ever seen her out of that bed again.” He runs a hand through his hair, still comprehending the fact. “She said she had a dream that you were an angel that healed her.”

“Oh my,” she exasperates, “What is with you humans and mistaking me for an angel?”

“I can’t blame her,” Genji defends with a grin. “You did save her life… and I want to thank you again.

Her eyes fall back to him. He hopes with every inch of his being she feels his gratitude. Although words will fail to convey this, he will still try to.

“Genji,” she begins softly, “I didn’t heal your mother to make you owe me something. I want you to understand that healing her was from unselfish motives.”

His brow crinkles at the direction she’s taking this, as he can’t find where the path ends.

“You told me you and your brother work this job to support your family, especially for your sick mother. Please, answer me honestly when I ask if there is no other way for you and Hanzo to work and provide for your home.”

Then it clicks inside his head. Her questions are only building to a single question that will change what happens between them from now on.

“I don’t know.” Genji wishes he could give something better than that. “Maybe if we went to the other towns over the hills, we could find something. But Hanzo couldn’t find anything more than this lumberjack business.”

A frown touches her lips. Her hand tightens around the other as she looks down to him.

“When will they stop cutting down the trees?”

He nearly swears under his breath, but he won’t lie to her.

“After they’ve taken as much as they need. They… want a lot of it.”

A stony weight falls to her shoulders. It presses into her collarbones as she looks away once again. Conflict strikes in her eyes. Unable to remain still, Genji rises to sit on the log beside her. She watches him from the corner of her vision until he’s completely facing her, open.

“Mercy,” he breathe softly. His hand remains palm up on the log, right between their bodies.

“Genji,” she says, no longer hard and defensive but torn between two magnetically repulsive opposites. “There’s only so much I can give for your homes, but I still need my home, too.”

His mother’s sudden wellness doesn’t cure everything. Hanzo and Genji still need to fill their bellies, keep warmth and shelter for their mother, and get out of the debt they’ve accumulated over the months.

“I know,” he says, wearily, defeated. “Mercy, I don’t know how to… We can’t stop working.”

“Neither can I let this destruction continue.”

She lifts her face. Her accepting but unhappy eyes shimmer. The battle still wages.  They still reside on opposite ends, no matter how close they try to get. A curse waits on his tongue for all of this. How can they settle this? Who can win without the other losing?

Genji looks away, attempting to hide his contempt over the impossible situation laid out at their feet. Her gaze falls away to the trees and grass. He shifts in his agitation, brushing his fingers against the side of her violet covered thigh. Startled, he lifts his hand away as he whips back to face the fairy. An apology waits on the edge of his tongue.

Her brow is hard, impressed with thoughts. The movement of her lips brings his attention to the pale pinkness, even in the dark. She purses them, before studying his hand.

As if cupping a butterfly, she slips her fingers around his. Bringing his hand into her lap, her other hand encases his one in warmth. She squeezes once.

“Mercy,” he says. Her bowed head makes him reach out, and take her cheek. The distant sensations of dancing in candlelight returns for a moment to raise goosebumps on his skin. Slowly meeting his gaze once more, there is only a storm in her soul catching eyes. Conflict burns through her like embers scattered across ashes.

They both can’t have this. He wants to be closer to her, but he’s just as good as any fire is to a forest. Genji can’t let his family down. Neither can wave a white flag.

Her thumb soothes over his knuckles. The softest texture still holds to his mind when feeling her fingertips.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s pathetic, but it’s all he can say.

Her eyelids flutter closed when she shakes her head against his palm.

“I only wish I could do more,” she says, looking at her own hands and the fingers she encases. For a moment, bitterness touches her cheekbones. “More for your family.”

“Mercy.” He wants to chastise, but she’s already getting to her feet. Dropping his hand, she steps away from the log. Her wings glow faintly, like a firefly in the night. Genji stands.

“You need to rest,” she says, turning back slightly. “Go. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Wait, Mercy—”

The fairy flits between the trees like a sudden wind picking up. Genji is left to a greater darkness. That is not what makes him weary, in body and soul.

There is no ending that turns out perfectly. The future only consists of loss, or gain. No balance can be found. He cannot forsake his family but Mercy is already nestling into his chest cavity. Not as a virus or disease, but as support that upholds his heart and lungs. Becoming empty again doesn’t fit into his imagination.

Both his palms burn with the lapsing heat of her skin. He squeezes his fists, hoping to hold onto it for a moment longer.

He turns, and goes back to camp.

In the morning, Hanzo is awaiting him as he opens his eyes. Stiffly, he sits a few inches away. There is steel in his brow.

“Where did you go last night?” he asks in a cool voice.

“What?” Genji groans, fighting the urge to lay his head back onto his pillow. Must this happen now?

“You left the camp last night,” Hanzo’s tone becomes only more clipped. “Where did you go?”

He glares up at him. Slowly, pulling himself up to a sitting position, he hunches slightly. The heel of one hand rubs his eye socket awake.

“You must be dreaming things, Hanzo,” he mutters.

“Your cot was empty. I waited for a long time, and you finally returned,” his patience is wearing thin. “Genji, where did you go?”

Genji gets to his feet. Sourness is seeping into his entire expression as Hanzo straightens as well. Turning away, his brother begins to speak another demand when Genji whirls on him.

“Is the heat getting to you?” he snaps. He’s boiling once more. There is little control over the slant of his brow and his tense shoulders. Hanzo only mirrors him.

It’s the same thing Hanzo asked Genji after he told him about seeing a fairy in the forest.

Hanzo’s expression becomes dark with revelation.

“So there is a fairy,” he speaks lowly.

Genji stills, before turning away with disdain, “We have work to do.”

There is no reason to entertain Hanzo’s suspicions for one moment. He can’t prove anything. It is only a hunch he has to go off of. For whatever the reason, Hanzo can’t just accept that their mother is better.

A hand grabs his shoulder. Genji rips out from under it before facing Hanzo’s disturb expression. Pressure clamps his teeth together as tendons pop out of his fists.

“Tell me the truth,” Hanzo demands. “Did you have to pay a price to make Mom better? Are you being enchanted?”

Several lumberjacks are now staring. One man steps forward, bracing to break apart a fight. He can hardly see past the anger in his own gaze.

“It’s not yours to worry about,” Genji nearly spits.

A small, conscious part actively yells in the back of his mind. This is his own stress spilling onto his brother, a release. The frustrations and lack of control are piercing into his brain painfully. Hanzo doesn’t deserve this cold, withdrawn treatment, not from his younger brother.

His words only engage him more. Hanzo steps closer to him, just as intense.

“Genji,” he demands. Then in the next breath, like the wreckage appearing behind a hurricane, “Genji.”

Hanzo is suddenly afraid. The stories of men disappearing into the woods after enchanting creatures must be playing in his mind. The steam in Genji’s veins die away. His fists loosen as he takes in his brother’s face.

“Don’t worry,” he finally speaks, still cold. “Nothing bad will happen to me.”

More eyes pry onto their interaction. The two men are no less tense then they were moments before, almost toe to toe. A few of the lumberjacks are excited, whispering bets. They’re sorely disappointed when Genji grabs his ax, and walks off into the treeline. The elder Shimada brother is left where he stands, watching the shadow of his younger sibling disappear behind leaves.

*

Something is going on with Genji. Hanzo has no idea if he is willingly apart of it, or even aware of it.

Genji brought that woman into town. Any other girl would have been chattered on excited lips at the thought of a new folly, but Hanzo didn’t hear one word about the blonde haired woman before. Genji isn’t so secretive.

The woman is nowhere to be seen that morning. At the same time, their mother rises out of bed as if she wasn’t on the brink of death. Genji is shocked, but more so happy at the unexplainable.

Hanzo would have given his left arm to save his mother, but something was off. It’s just so sudden. She called it a miracle.

There are stories that get passed around a fire late at night when the men are restless. They tell of beautiful fairies who take your name and make you forget who you are just to keep you forever.

Did Genji really see something that day in the forest? Did he give up something to save their mother? Did he come across a dangerous creature who gave him whatever he wanted at a price?

He is to take care of his younger brother. From watching him beside the river when they were children, to keeping a roof over their head, he does his duty as the elder brother.

He won’t lose Genji, not after just getting his mother back.

A coolness hangs in the air after their argument that morning. Several lumberjacks stay clear of Hanzo as he takes to chopping dedicatedly into towering trees. He asks others to confirm that Genji is still working close by, still within sight.

When evening falls, Genji doesn’t draw near to him, or even speak. They share second long stares at random intervals, but his brow still holds like stone. Hanzo is patient.

Once night falls, he lays still on his cot. The heaviness eating away at the back of his mind keeps him awake, even while late hours seem to fly by. The darkness becomes only one mushed up shadow of pointed tree tops and starlight sky.

Genji stirs on his cot. Rising near silently, Hanzo holds his breath. Boots are slipped on before steps retreat to the edge of the woods. Hanzo rises, catching the backside of his brother slipping between two oaks.

As he throws his blanket off, fully dressed, he curses himself. He takes the ax resting against his cot. Racing after the imprint of Genji in the dark, his fear shoves the first instance that Genji told Hanzo that he saw a fairy to the front of his brain. He was so certain. Hanzo dismissed it as him not drinking enough water while growing hot under the sun.

His deliberate ignorance may be costing Genji’s life. He cannot watch his brother disappear right before his eyes.

Directions in the dark forest soon become meaningless. Hanzo runs through foliage that Genji much have surely crossed through, but there is no striking evidence. Second guessing himself, he stops and reconsiders his brother’s path several times. Deeper into the forest, he feels a haunting ghost.

A black hand wraps around his heart, and slowly squeezes until he becomes breathless. What if he’s already too late?

“Genji!” he finally calls out, frantic.

“Genji,” speaks a voice curiously. Hanzo whirls around, raising the ax in front of his chest defensively.

Hidden in the shadows underneath a pine tree, a tall woman steps out. What little starlight there is illuminates her skinny figure, and burning red hair. A buried instinct warms him of danger. An almost eerie sense urges him to leave, but he can’t rip his gaze off of the one red iris, and the one blue within the woman’s face.

She lowers her chin ever so slightly, as if studying a book, or perhaps, pulling back his skin to see what resides underneath. The slight motion reveals the pointed end of her ears.

“He’s your brother, isn’t he?” she questions. Her jawline looks sharp enough to cut his hand. Hanzo steels himself, shifting the ax ever so slightly as to be able to swing it if needed.

“Where is he?” Hanzo demands. Despite the natural reaction to run, he stays firm. Genji is somewhere near. He must be.

A most curious and almost excited emotion touches the corner of her mouth. It’s as if she stumbled upon a gold nugget poking out of the ground. Something works against his tongue, attempting to pull free an unknown word.

“I can tell you everything your brother has been doing, and _wh_ o he has been with.” Her eyes hold like knives, eager to begin cutting into her work.

Hanzo’s inside twist with anticipation, but not just for the worry over Genji.

“You must only give me your name.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Mercy disappears into the forest to have a moment, but it doesn’t last for long.

The starlight is gentle on the darkness. Half a moon gives silver light, lessening the terror of what hides behind every tree trunk. Genji steps through it, wondering if this is a glimpse into the fairy world.  

Her light softly glows. It calls to him as a grassy clearing opens up before him. A few tree stumps line the perimeter, marking where he first met the fairy.

Elegantly, she curls her legs underneath her. The grass around her legs appear soft in her gentle light. Her wings flutter once at the sight of him before stilling. One arm is draped across her lap, as the other hand lets blades of grass poke out between her fingers. Mercy smiles, but it’s sad.

The argument with Hanzo earlier evaporates from his chest. Lifting the corner of his lips, he steps forward quietly, as if afraid of disturbing the peace.

“Genji,” she greets in a kind voice.

“Hello, Mercy.” He lowers himself into the grass, crossing his legs. “Is everything alright?”

Her brow lifts, shocked slightly at his question. Her parted lips stall for a moment.

“It is how it is.” Her smile is gone. “Moira was close by the camp today, but I ran her off.”

His brow furrows at the mention of the fae woman. His gaze falls over Mercy’s dress, dotted with incredibly small, pink flowers and waved together with stalks of yellow grain. The straps on the dress hold securely over her shoulders. The end of her skirt frays with wheat seeds, like a golden dream. Nothing bruises her skin or cuts her veins.

“Be careful,” he says, before adding, “Be careful around Moira.”

She chuckles at the silly but sweet sentiment, “I am, but I worry about you being careful.”

“Do you?” he asks, grinning. Surely he can let her forget some of the burdens they bear, just for tonight.

She tries to hide the traitorous smile creeping onto her lips, “How can I not worry? Humans are already foolish, and you are a dangerous thing in your own right.”

“Me? Dangerous?” Genji inches closer. Her curious eyelashes follow his movement until he’s settled beside her. His lungs suddenly slow, as if bracing themselves. “What about fairies? They are terribly lethal.”

Their shoulders almost touch. Her interest stays on him, but he swears her eyes fall down to his lips. The curiosity and knowledge of what may happen next keeps her gaze captured. He can almost feel her. Only inches away, he remembers her heat. Ghost memories places her hands back in his and on his shoulder. They dance once more.

To hold her again would free his heart entirely.

“How so?” she asks softly, teasing.

As if whispering a secret, Genji leans forward. Mercy’s wings shift ever so slightly as she comes closer. Their thighs press together, side by side as his fingertips tuck back a loose strand of hair behind her pointy ear. He breathes against her skin. She holds back a shiver.

“They are much too beautiful for this world, for mortal eyes. They are deeply kind, and hold laughter that echoes like a thousand little bells. They care for those that don’t deserve their care. It even goes out to their enemies, for the ones they should destroy.”

She turns her head, looking to his chest, his heart. Genji doesn’t dare to let go. His lips buzz for a moment, but he doesn’t close the distance between them.

“You have thoroughly disarmed me.”

The blues of her soul finds him. Pulling only inches away, he holds her gaze. Softness melts her brow. Pink lips vulnerably part. For one, desperate heartbeat, he finds longing in her eyes, a silent wish.

Her hand reaches out. The very tips of her fingers brush against his cheekbones. He stills, as if afraid of startling away a butterfly. Yellow wings eases across her back before shutting close together. Her palms brushes against his skin. Cupping his face, as if about to drink from a little stream, she holds him.

Her touch satisfies a craving Genji has been longing for since he first came to know her. It’s weak, and desperate, but there is no resisting the nature of his heart. He has never felt so certain then as he stays in her grasp. Her face stays at the center of his universe. What his soul demands is inches away. The fairy studies his eyes, as if trying to find any speckles of colors or a brighter ring within the brown.

Genji is in trouble. The mischievous and trickster nature of fairies is nothing new, but he never imagine needing to guard his rib cage, least she slip inside and steal away his heart. It’s in her hands already, even as she holds his face.

She comes closer, as if finally jumping into the ocean from off of a great cliff. Her breath touches his skin, calming every nerve ending. Lifting slightly, her lips move past his mouth, and to his ear. The one feature she finds so strange. Her fingers lift, raking through his hair ever so slightly. The shell of his ear takes the gentle pressure of pink lips. Against his wishes, a soft sound escapes his throat. From her own mouth, a pleased hum follows.

On the other side of his skull, she once again comes closer. Her teeth wet his earlobe for a moment. Genji closes his eyes, enhancing her tender sensation. Soft lips, like that of a petal from a spring flower, cover the shell of his ear.

Her hands lift away, trailing down his arms to grasp his fingers.

“Come with me,” she murmurs.

There is no want but of her voice, and her glowing etherealness. Genji stands with her. There is no battle, and there is no worried brother. They leave the clearing behind. His hand rests in her warm palm. The fairy leads his heart through the trees, tugging him along gently.

*

Choices that affect everything, keep her from choosing. Mercy is still on the same path since the men first came to the forest. The trees and grass and even the small stream are endangered. The Lindholms, her family, won’t be sheltered by the leaves for long. Where will they go if there is no longer a giant oak to cover the stone walls of their home? The weeping willows that make up the walls of her home will fall down once they get close enough.

His hand is larger than hers. Callous dot his palms and fingers, marks of his labor. It’s only gentle against her skin when he touches her. She looks over her shoulder, past the tips of her wings. He smiles. His trust as he follows her is absolute.

They are in a battle, but they are not enemies.

The unneeded concern he gives, especially when he is at more risk, lightens her bones. Wrinkles appear in his brow when he worries, asking about her. Unselfish, yet, bound to his family, like she.

How can she chose to fight him?

He speaks of how disarming she is to him. He doesn’t mention how little revolt she’s given in return. Not since she brought him to her family, and found Moira plotting against the other humans.

His apologies. His whispers against her skin. His eyes, like the wood from the center of a young oak, hold her for seconds too long. He is lowering her fists by only holding her hands.

His mother. His brother. His own self-preservation. How can she deny him that?

How can she not protect her home?

How can she protect him?

They travel quickly, nearly following the moon before Genji recognizes the trees. Over the stream, Genji says her name. They step underneath the willows. She looks to him while brushing aside the falling leaves. Under the canopy of soft green, he lets her pull him closer.

She can chose this for tonight. She can have him, and imagine that the morning light holds nothing but peace.

“You can sleep here” she says, letting her fear cause the wings upon her back to flutter. A gentle glow falls from them, illuminating them in this moment.

His expression is soft, but revered for what her home brings.

“Will you lay down with me?” he asks. The color of his eyes makes her say yes.

In one corner, a bed of moss and cattail cotton waits. Her hand falls behind her, still leading him. If this is stranger than anything he has ever experienced, he doesn’t say so. He stays firm, like a rock at the edge of a river. Lowering themselves, moss and cattail cotton press to their bodies. His hand falls to her hip in support as they slowly lay their heads down.

She never sleeps on her wings. It’s natural for him to stretch out, and offer his arm. Shifting, her heart threatens to burst through her chest as she presses against the length of his body. His chest is warm. It heats red into her skin. Her cheek presses underneath his collarbone. Testing his reaction, she eases her one leg over his, laying halfway on top of him.

He only moves his arm to wrap around her backside. A soft breath falls from her mouth. Both of their bodies slip together, like the roots of a plant digging into the earth. His fingertips begin to trace designs along her lower back, and even at the base of her wings, raising goosebumps. Slowly, she warps one arm around him. She almost laughs at the thought of her looking like a burr as she clings to him.

Comforting. That’s the word. He’s comforting to her weary soul.

She tilts her head back, finding him already looking down. He murmurs how beautiful she is. A smile warms her mouth. She tells him to rest, he hasn’t been getting a lot of sleep recently. Her entire body hugs him against her, refusing to let go.

Her eyelids fall peacefully closed. His heartbeat touches her cheek, letting her dreams be light.

*

“You wretched thing.”

Moira steps towards him. The stone of which he set off the first sparks still rests beside him. Hanzo glares as the fae rips the ax out of his grasp. His limbs refuse to move, stuck to the earth. Grinding bones comes from his clenched teeth.

Smoke wavers towards them as she holds the ax just underneath it’s head.

“Do you think if you burn my forest down that I won’t go after the others? Your brother?” she questions. Subtle rage boils underneath her sharp features.

Her command forbids him from using the ax to harm himself or her. She didn’t tell him to not use it entirely.

He can still protect his brother.

The fire throws red and orange to the side of their faces. Hanzo’s tongue swells in his mouth, longing to curse her, but it stays stuck in honey. She told him to not speak.

Her different colored glare promises repercussions. As she looms above his hunched form, she stares at the dry field burning. She came back too late. It’s already licking at the trees surrounding the clearing.

This must be warning enough to get Genji to safety, and away from the fairy or the fae. He will not disappear quietly. His sacrifice will be made.

Something shifts in her expression. Anger melts away to thoughtfulness.

“This can still be useful,” she muses more to herself. A cold mist floods Hanzo’s lungs. Her eyes fall back down to his silent defiance, even as he’s forced to kneel at her feet.

“Hanzo,” she speaks. His name rings through the air, forcing him to straighten at the calling. Magic works through his title and his body, against his will. He wants to snarl but only obeys.

“You will find your next task to be beneficial to both of us,” Moira speaks in the red light of the raging fire.

What could she possibly mean?

He resists for only a moment before he’s forced to his feet. The fae places the ax in his hands. Dripping into his center, dread stays in his rib cage as she orders him to follow her back into the forest. The fire slowly spreads behind them.

*

A hand shakes his shoulder, bringing him to consciousness before smoke burns his throat.

“Genji, wake up,” the fairy pleads.

He stirs, sitting up to Mercy’s frantic expression. She jerks her head to the trees that make up the walls of her home. Smoke slips in between the weeping willows, blistering the leaves and filling the space. His heart jump starts in his chest.

“What’s burning?” he demands. Jumping to their feet, he touches her arm as she brushes aside a few branches to peek outside. More smoke pours in  “Where is the fire coming from?”

How did it start? A crack of dry lightning on an equally dry tree? Did one of the lumberjacks let sparks from a fire jump around, unrestrained?

“I don’t know,” she speaks quickly, then coughs once. An edge of panic threatens her voice. “My family. I have to warn them. Genji, you need to get the lumberjacks away from the trees.”

Hanzo. He’s with the others. It’s still dark outside. Black space touches against the red burning its way closer to Mercy’s home. She scrambles to one of the stone shelves nestled in the trunk of a tree. A yellow dress waits before she grabs it and presses it into his arms. Shaking his head, he tries to deny her the implication but there is no time.

Her home is going to burn down. Helpless, he grasps the dress.

“What else needs to be brought out?” Genji asks urgently. So many little items decorate her home. The flames will devour everything.

“That’s the only important thing. Go,” she nearly shouts, pushing him between the hanging branches that steam slightly from the heat. He almost stops, just to go back in and grab whatever he can. She’s leaving it all behind. Crinkles appear in her brow but there is no hesitation in leaving her home. Shifting the dress to one hand, he grabs hers with the other.

They step into the sight of the fire. About ten yards away, a wall of flame consumes the forest. He inhales. Smoke hitches the breath in his lungs as Mercy’s fingers squeeze his. Blazing through the lush foliage and green trees, as if they were nothing but fuel, the fire creeps across the ground.

The weeping willows of Mercy’s home already wilt in the searing heat. Dryness breaks across his cheekbones as he stares at it.

Genji’s hand tightens around hers, “We need to leave, now.”

She blinks once, as if accepting that the cattail and moss bed no longer holds their resting bodies.

“You need to warn the other men,” she urges. Somehow, she thinks of her opposition as her own home faces the hungry fire. Tugging her away, he leads her into the dark shadows of the forest. A bitter taste, aside from the smoke, stays on his tongue at leaving her trees without a true fight.

The untouched forest is only a temporary heaven. The smoke infiltrates his rational thoughts. Her fluttering wings anxiously buzz against her back.

“The Lindholms,” Genji says, stalling. The tension in his fingers refuse to release her, least she disappear into the flames.

Her feet plants themselves like a tree. He has to step back just to keep a hold of her hand. Desperation climbs into his throat as smoke tries to infect his air. Just behind her silhouette, red peeks through the trees. The fire gives a slow chase, but it will catch anything in a blink of an eye.

“I’ll get to them quickly,” her voice is firm as she loosens her hand free. “Go get your brother and the other men to safety.”

“I’m not leaving you.” He turns to face her. It is not smoke alone that claws at his heart, but fear. Fire takes and takes. He can’t watch her disappear into it.

“We don’t have time for this,” she pleas, but lifts her hand to his cheek. “We’ll see each other after our families are safe.”

Worry stains his expression like soot upon the hearth mantle. His brother and the other lumberjacks most likely haven’t woken up yet, but the fire is quickly devouring the forest. Mercy’s wings are swift.

He must trust this.

“Be careful.”

“I will.” Mercy leaves his grasp like a raindrop off of a petal. Turning in the approaching red light, her wings flutter. Off of the ground, she shoots between two oaks like a dragonfly.

Genji presses the dress against his ribs. The faint smell of rainfall and lilacs carry with him as he steps backwards. Turning around, he runs through the black forest that’s about to become red.

Smoke constricts his throat. He gasps for air. It’s everywhere, an infectious fog settling onto the peacefully trees. Genji refuses to slow down. Jumping over logs and shoving past branches that cut his skin does little to slow his pace.

Breaking into the clearing of the camp, there is only a faint, orange glow over half of the tree tops. Smoke is already slipping over the men’s cots and tools. Genji shouts, jerking awake half the company. The other half stirs at the yelling orders to gather the tools and equipment.

“Where’s Hanzo,” Genji keeps shouting. His cot is empty.

“I don’t know!” Everyone answers him, shouting as half dressed men run axes down the barren road.

Pumping blood picks up in his ears as Genji stops. In the chaos, the smoke and burning, he realizes his brother’s worry. Hanzo knew he left camp the first night they came back from town. He would have known if he left this night.

Genji turns his wide eyes back to the trees. His stomach drops. His mouth becomes dry.

Hanzo was worried about his brother being enchanted by a fairy.

His mother’s dress falls to the ground. Someone shouts his name as Genji races back into the trees. He doesn’t hear. He only calls out his brother’s name.

*

Her world is on fire.

She turns her back to her own home. The dress is safe in Genji’s hands but the rest of her treasures and keepsakes will soon be smoldering. Her life among those weeping willows, nurturing them, sleeping in their safety, is falling to ash.

Smoke tugs tears free from her eyes but she doesn’t slow. Like a sharp, cold wind, Mercy soars through the forest to the giant oak in which the Lindholms live under. She bangs on their door, startling Torbjörn and Ingrid. They get Brigitte, but they can already smell the smoke.

Frantically, she gathers the little but precious things in their homes. Metals, rings, and clothes with a few small bags of food. Brigitte asks about Mercy’s weeping willows. Her head shakes in response. The stone golem’s brow crinkles with anguish.

Torbjörn’s gaze falls to the red light beginning to slip across the meadow. Hardening his gaze, he pushes his shoulders back and urges Ingrid to leave something silly behind. The stone women both gasp at the trees. Ingrid’s hand falls over her rock heart before Torbjörn tugs her away.

There are others she needs to watch over. Telling them to flee far away, Mercy snaps her wings. She will still protect them.

“Come back to us safely,” Ingrid cautions. The fire outlines the worrying wrinkles in her gray face.

She nods, “Go.”

Her glowing wings are underwhelming compared to the roaring monster of red and orange. Flickering teeth bite into towering pines. Bushes of berries and flowers wilt and ooze green juices as the beast nears. Mercy coughs, frequently blinking against the stinging smoke. Nearing the fire, the heat sears the thin membranes of her delicate wings.

There is nothing that can kill this fire now.

The little stream just a little ways up from her home still continues on its course, undisturbed. Mercy lowers her bare feet into the weak current. Cold, gentle water rushes over her skin. She breathes in the slightly cooler air.

Flames dance upon what was the branches of her home. It is blacken, and flaking into off into ash. Her throat closes up, but not from the fire’s effect.

She’s losing it all, despite everything she tried to do. Fate forces it’s harsh hand like a slap across her cheek. Magic fills her soul and yet she stands here, powerless. This was the ultimate outcome, either with fire or axes.

Her wings close against her back, pointed. Her head bows to the fire as her fists ball up at her side. Wetness falls from her eyes. The smoke wasn’t her first enemy, but it’s her last.

Fire, like a wall of death, continues it’s senseless rampage. Rain won’t bless the forest at this time. The little water rushing over her feet cool her shattered insides.

_Let Genji be safe._

Mercy murmurs enchanted words upon her tongue. Snapping open her wings, she raises her arms out. Glittering magic falls from her fingertips, mixing into the stream as she continues to speak.

The little stream begins to draw upwards, as if in the upside down motion of pouring out from a cup. The water drips into shimmering lines of mist and suspended raindrops. The forest’s own barrier of defense. Every inch of Mercy’s skin, especially her wings, begin to emit a yellow light. As if becoming the sun itself. Floating out of the now dry creek bed, she flutters down the length of the fire. Water trails her wings, filling the space with it’s guarding coolness.

She will not take defeat into her hands quite yet. Her protection can still be given. This may not stop the fire, but it will stall it long enough for any creatures to escape deeper into the forest.

That is all she can give now.

A living star among the red flames and black night, Mercy floats through her home. Glittering magic and waterfall in her wake. The fire takes on the forest at a rounded point, focused directly towards her and her family’s homes.

The end of the stream pools into a small pond at the edge of the trees, almost close to the lumberjack camp. Mercy touches the earth once more. Slowly, like extinguishing the embers in a hearth, the glow in her skin and wings fades away. Darkness rushes her core, but she keeps it at bay.

The wall of water and magic fall behind her. Burning flames continue to climb and creep towards her. Basking her face in a hellish glow, she stares down the flames. It begs to blister her skin and turn her hair to ash.

Mercy worries of creatures still fleeing the destruction. The barrier stands, shimmering and sparkling. Turning her wings to the heat, Mercy jets back down the length of her protection. The mist offers a slight comfort against the smoke threatening to melt her precious wings.

The fire nears, a predator ready to pounce. Mercy tests the barrier with one hand. It rises above the treetops, but appears like an upturned, thin stream. There is almost too little water to really hold.

Mercy takes her hand away to face the fire. Even water can cut through stone.

She hears no cries, or rushing bodies. She calls out a few times. No one answers. A desperate hope in her heart stays illuminated. Every creature had the time to escape deeper into the forest. She will stand guard at the barrier to help any soul if there is any still near the flames.  

Fluttering wings carry her back to where her home once stood. The fire claims it, mocking her from within its orange hue. The water at her back soothes her trembling wings, but her face caves. Her eyes refuse to look to where the weeping willows once stood.

As she stands guard, smoke slips into her chest. The attempts to drive her back are futile. Racking through her breaths, stealing her oxygen, the gray, burnt air takes her sacrifice. Mercy weakly lowers to her knees. Her own soul is burning. Coughs rip through her throat as she covers her mouth and tries to breathe in mist.

Not one spark can get past this. She will protect her home.

The smoke is cruel. Coughing begins to overtake all of her focus. The sound almost covers up the faint voice calling in the distance. Mercy almost doubts that it’s real, until her name is carried weakly between the trees. Turning down the length of the watery barrier, she forces her lungs to be still. Her wet eyes squint into the dark woods. A figure solidifies, shouting.

“Genji… she murmurs roughly.

What is he doing here? He’s much too close to the fire.

Her attempt to call out to him is choked by the smoke. Another series of coughs tear through her throat. Burns somehow begin scraping at her windpipe.

The lumberjack’s face comes into the fire’s light. Almost to the dry creek bed, he doesn’t slow down. His eyes are wide, set on something just over her crouching form.

Fear opens his mouth as he shouts, “Hanzo, no!”

Furrowing her brow, Mercy glances back. A gasp falls out of her lips as Hanzo stands above her, backdropped by the hungry flames. Red outlines his shadowy face. An ax already raises above his head, ready to strike down.

A dreamy quality shines in his eyes, enchanted. Mercy holds up one arm to shield herself as he swings.

Genji jumps in front of her, and takes the blow at the top of his right arm. The axehead buries completely into his flesh. A pained grunt escapes his throat as he stumbles back. He falls like a young oak. Crying out, Mercy launches to her feet. Waving her hand over Hanzo’s stunned expression, he slumps. Glittering magic covers his eyelids, forcing him into a deep sleep.

She staggers across the dry, baking ground to kneel over Genji.

“Mercy…” a soft moan moves through his lips. Wide eyes take her in as as her hands hover over the ax still buried in his arm. For half a second, she stalls. The wooden handle almost hits her as she shifts to his right side.

He came to her protection. She couldn’t protect him.

“Shush,” she tells him. The frazzled edges of her mind tunnel only on the blood beginning to slip down his skin. Her eyes are still wet.

She couldn’t protect her home, her forest. Her family flees their burning world now.

“Hanzo,” he gasps. “Hanzo.”

Touching the ax, the wooden handle changes to climbing vines. The metal axehead deeply severed the flesh. Hoping that his bones have not been harmed, Mercy holds his chest down as her other hand takes the sharp metal. Swiftly, she frees it from his flesh. Blood drips off of the silver. Genji arches his back off of the ground as animalistic sounds rip out of his throat.

A broken noise falls out of her lungs. He still groans. His unbearable state grabs her heart in a cold fist. Smoky iron touches over her tongue, threatening to gag her.

Only strips of flesh connect the rest of Genji’s arm to his body. The ax completely chopped through his bone. Blood freely spills down the rock and into the dry creek bed. It pools, like a growing puddle in the rain.

“Such a flawed creature,” a voice speaks. Smoke swirls around her backside as Mercy crouches protective over Genji. Through the red glare of the fire, Moira steps forward.

Mercy bares her teeth as she raises one hand upwards. A fierceness sharpens her eyes as she leans over Genji, as if to hide him from the fae’s view. A glowing point of light erupts from her palm. Growing steadily, it encases herself and Genji in a spot of protection. The light pushes outwards to nearly touch Hanzo’s unconscious body.

Moira’s form dissolves into a black fog. The eerie, evil smoke rushes forward to engulf Genji’s brother. Surrounding his body, the light almost touches the dark smoke before pulling away. Emptiness remains where Hanzo once lied.

“No!” Mercy cries out.

Moira disappears back into the untouched forest through the watery barrier.

The light stays upon them even as Mercy lowers her hand. Her heartbeat slows as she touches Genji’s face. Heat is beginning to sear her delicate wings. The air is stained with blood and smoke.

Mercy could never, in either revenge or defense, take another being’s home, their life. The empty echo of loss is too great for her to force onto others. It rings within her now, threatening to replace his warm hand with burning coals. It threatens to turn her heart cold.

Everything else is lost. Genji still breathes. His blood trickles down the slight slope into the dry creek bed.

She can’t save his arm, but he will not slip away from her grasp. The human that fills and breaks her heart will not be ripped away from her.

“Genji,” she breathes, “I’m going to put you to sleep.”

“No,” he tries to sit up, but only closes his eyes. A pale, sweaty sheen takes to his skin. Shock sets into his eyes. “Hanzo.”

“I can’t lose you, too.”

There is nothing she can do for his brother now. 

“Mercy,” his voice breaks upon the pain and smoke rushing him.

Her hands cup his face. Not to kiss his ears, but to give him relief from the pain. Half open eyes find her, suspended in agony. He’s losing blood even as she places her hand over his face. When she lifts away, his eyelids are lowered. Glittering magic sticks to his eyelashes.

There is too much already lost. His heartbeat will not falter. He will not be greeted by death’s hand, not while her own wings keep fluttering against the heat. 

The only thing that matters now is his fluttering soul. Her home burns. Her forest is aflame but Genji’s bloody state is the only thing filling her lungs with sobs.

She will live with the rest of this lost, but she will not lose the man she loves. 

The axehead cools her fingertips as she picks it up. Blood conceals the flesh and bones of his torn arm, but she finds where to cut it free. There is nothing even her magic can do for a limb once the bone has been severed. Not without drastic magical consequences to the human.

He twitches and moans when the axehead clatters against stone. Glowing light over takes her hand. Steadily, she covers the tattered remains of his right arm with her palm. Squishy textures cause Mercy to focus. The flesh and veins mend together. His blood covers her hands.

Her heart stays in her throat as she speaks raspy, enchanted words. They fall over his body, causing him to be light. She slips her arms underneath him and rises to her feet. Genji falls against her hold, unconscious. A gasp fills her lungs at how still he is against her chest, but she clings to his shallow breaths. The barrier blesses their skin with mist as she carries him through it.

The forest takes the fearing fairy and the wounded lumberjack into its branches. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a missing limb, Genji stays in Mercy’s care while the creatures of the forest recover from the fire.

Genji’s cheek presses against her shoulder. The slight brush of warm air from his mouth gives strength to her shuddering steps. Her coughing worsens as they come to the edge of a small pond. What little flutter her wings give ache painfully from the heat nearly searing the delicate membranes. She brings him to the end of the forest, breaking into open landscape that appears sinister and unsafe to the mystical creatures.

Most of the forest dwellers find refuge here. As Mercy breaks through the treeline, carrying an unconscious human, most move away from her approach. Humans are unearthly to them. Distantly, she hears her name called. It doesn’t slow her almost robotic walk forward. Her arms have nearly gone numb from their long held position, despite her magic making his body lighter.

At the edge of the green water, Mercy folds to her knees as carefully as possible. What little support her wings give is just a delicate breeze. Her descend is more like a chopped tree plummeting to the ground as Genji’s head remains secure against her.

“Mercy!” Torbjörn’s voice cuts through her ragged throat and stinging eyes. The smoke has long since left them be, but something else rips at her body. Her arms shift, the muscles crying out as she settles Genji into her lap. The empty space of where his right arm should dangle stabs into her soul. It’s as if she’s witnessing the axehead cut down into his flesh, again and again.

Stone hands gently touch her shoulders. Ingrid’s voice says her name as Brigitte gasps. A curse tumbles out of Torbjörn’s mouth. Slowly, the Lindholms surround her in a net of protect. Mercy lifts her head, still holding his face close to her heart.

“His arm,” she rasps like her voice is unraveling in her throat. “I couldn’t protect him.”

“He’s alive, Mercy.” Ingrid reaches from behind her shoulder to brush ash off of Genji’s hair. “You saved him.”

Mercy wants to shake her head, to curse at the ax in Hanzo’s hand and Moira’s enchantment forcing Genji’s own brother to chop off of his arm. Something shakes in Mercy’s chest before she swallows roughly.

“He can’t live without his arm. He works. He always needs to work. The trees!” Mercy’s fingers dig into Genji’s flesh for a moment. “I put up a water barrier, but I don’t know if it held. Half of the forest is certainly gone, Torbjörn.”

“I know,” he speaks, reassurance falls out of his rumbling cords like ash from a tall, burning tree. “You did what you could. There is nothing left to fret over. We will continue on as we always have.”

The deep earth browns of his eyes are honest, but she does not see them. He’s trying to reach her through the storm. Her wings twitch open.

“Genji can’t,” her voice cracks. “His arm… his arm. I couldn’t—His brother. Moira has his brother under her enchantment.”

The wide eye look Torbjörn exchanges with Ingrid pierces her chest once more. The gravity of the situation keeps slamming her down to the rocky ground.

“I need to heal Genji,” she murmurs suddenly. Releasing the slightest bit of tension in her arms, Genji’s head rests against her chest.

“Wait a moment, Mercy,” Ingrid says softly. “You have no energy to be doing so right now. Brigitte and I will bring you food and water.”

Mercy doesn’t consider such needs. The only things her hands can stand to do is go back over the blood staining the stump of his arm. The stone women leave with swift steps. Gently, as Torbjörn watches her, she dips her fingers in water. What little sticks to her skin is brought back and rubbed gently over the scarred flesh. Genji continues to breathe shallowly. His brow is taught, even in his deep, painless slumber.

Flakes of dark brown stick with her hand when she dips it back into the water.

“Make him a new arm,” Torbjörn says simply.

Her hand stops in the air. There is no humor but a rather plainness in his eyes. Her wings flutter.

“You’re the only one who can give him a new arm now.” His beard falls against his chest as he lifts his chin. “He would only accept from you, anyways.”

Her hand drops over the slight flesh that remains of Genji’s right arm. It hardly forms outwards at the end of the shoulder. He would be handicapped for the rest of his life, unable to do the entire work of a grown man.

The lone idea brings the kindest hint of hope into her weathered chest.

“Out of what?” she asks quietly.

“Whatever your magic will keep, and whatever you think he’d like.”

Torbjörn’s bluntness works slowly into the fibers of her being. Like a little stream breaking a boulder in half with its current.

“I’ll let him decide,” she murmurs. On a sort of numb, unthinking motion, she continues to clean his wound.

His wound being healed will not protect against the pain of the loss. Its physically weight will throw him off balance. The realization of his severed limb with take time to accept.

A pink scar stares up at her as Ingrid and Brigitte return. Cups of water and handfuls of food wait for her, but Mercy only accepts the drink. It washes away some of the sandpaper in her throat.

Genji’s closed eyes still hold a few dots of glitter. Her hand covers his upper face for only a moment before lifting away. The glitter is gone. Before his eyelids lift, a moan twists through his throat.

“Genji,” she whispers.

The angle of the new dawn’s light nearly cuts through his eyelashes. Slowly, a hand reaches up to clutch at her arm. Tension runs through the popping veins in his skin. Bowing over him, Mercy murmurs softly as he comes back to the waking world.

“Mercy,” he groans. His agony is not lost to the air as she refuses to clutch him tighter, for fear of squishing him. “Hanzo. What happened to Hanzo?”

A breath falls out of her throat, broken. Genji closes his eyes against it, but the crinkles in his face know better.

“Moira took him,” Mercy’s entire voice is an apology. “I tried to protect him from her. I… I’m sorry, Genji.”

It slams back into her mind. Genji running. Him crying out while she herself was stunned in terror. Between the ax and her, he stood. He only took the blade to his arm, whereas it would have buried itself into her skull.

“You fool,” she mutters, nearly cursing on grinding teeth. “You fool. I am suppose to protect you.”

“Mercy…” his weak voice immediately makes her rage disappear. There is nothing for her to be angry about. He has almost lost everything.

Bowing down, she kisses his forehead. A thin gleam of sweat covers his skin. She stays there for a moment as his fingers tighten around her arm. Something waits on his tongue but only a moan falls from his mouth.

Straightening, Mercy nearly closes her eyes. Hanzo. Moira. The burning forest. Genji’s lost arm. The shape of her wings are nearly frayed with smoke and heat.

He stirs. His hand falls from her arm and reaches across his body. The impulse to snatch his hand and press it to her heart is strong, but she numbly watches his search. The crinkles in his brow are painful as he dares peek through ashy eyelashes.

The lack of flesh shocks him first. Then, his fingertips touch the newly cleaned scars. Only a stump remains on his right side, colored with pink slashes in the skin. Mercy’s hold tightens. The fragments of her heart break once more as he lets his head fall back and away, as if refusing to acknowledge it. Still, he clutches at the stump of flesh.

Murmurs fall out of her mouth as she lowers her head. Pressing her forehead to his, apologies and comforts slip off her tongue in a weak attempt to calm his pain. What twist his expression only rakes through Mercy’s core even more. The Lindholms stand by, protective, but allowing their grief.

“My brother,” Genji finally breathes. His eyes flash open, remember what happened in the burning light. “We have to find him.”

“We will,” Mercy swears on a shaky breath. “I must finish healing you, Genji.”

“No,” he tries to say, but Mercy buries her cheek against his hair.

“You’re still in pain,” she says, “I need to take care of you now.”

“You’re wings,” his voice cracks softly. “They’re almost black.”

“Just from the smoke.”

It hurts, but it is nothing.

“Mercy.” Ingrid’s hand touches her shoulder. “You both need to rest before you can heal him.”

She wants to shake her head, but Genji tries to turn in her lap. Instead, he only finds the stone golem’s gaze. His lips move, but his words are near silent.

“Help her.”

“We will,” Ingrid reassures him. “We’ll help you, too.”

It’s decided. For once, Mercy lets things out of her hands. There is no control she truly holds anymore.

It takes coaxing, but Mercy reluctantly eases Genji into Ingrid’s lap. Even before Brigitte can tug her away, the stone golem is washing Genji’s hair and humming a familiar tune. He simply rests, eyes closed with a pain expression.

She has no slept for an entire day and night. Exhaustion claws at the edges of her consciousness but a nervous energy buzzes in her veins. The constant question of how Moira got to Hanzo, and caused him to fall under her enchantment haunts Mercy’s thoughts. Bloody images slide behind her eyelids if she closes them for too long. Genji’s pained moans still echo in her eardrums.

Brigitte takes her up to a shallow stream that runs into the pond. There, she and Torbjörn set to feeding her and cleaning off her skin. It’s as if she’s a helpless child, and Torbjörn is taking care of her once again. She cannot think of a better description for herself.

Torbjörn leaves after she eats only a few bites. Words of comforts are left behind him as Brigitte scrubs her wings clean. The delicate membranes are tender from the hot smoke, but slowly, the black stains come off. Brigitte talks at first, but when Mercy fails to give anything but one worded answers, a song follows on her lips. The worry in her face is marbled into the stony texture. Still, she promises Mercy that they’ll get Moira for what she did.

Returning to the pond, Mercy nearly stumbles as she reaches for Genji. He only groans as she takes him back from Ingrid, but he is somewhat better. There is no ash or sweat left on his skin. The shirt sleeve on his rise side has been rolled up cleanly and there is little blood left save for the stains on his clothes.

“He ate a little, but you need to rest before you can heal him,” Ingrid speaks softly.

“No,” her magic still works over his body to make it light enough for her to carry. She lifts him into her hold. He hardly stirs as she stands. “I’ll heal him now. He’s in too much pain.”

Ingrid’s worried colored lips part to plead again with her, but Torbjörn’s hand settles his wife.

“We’ll be here if you need us,” is all he says. Her throat becomes thick with emotion as she nods, grateful.

She carries the barely consciousness form of her human love back into the trees. Over the horizon, back towards the lumberjack camp, thick columns of black smoke rise into the sky. It seems to be a signaling the end of all things. Mercy looks away. His heartbeat pounds against her arm as she cradles him.

The fire could still be coming. It could ascend upon them in one second. The last parts of her forest could disappear at any moment.

The last piece of the fairy’s home resides in Genji’s beating heart. She will not fail to protect that.

A patch of warm grass appears between two, towering firs. The sun falls upon it, as if proclaiming it as holy. There, Mercy kneels, gently placing Genji upon the forest ground. He stirs, his one hand reaching for her.

“Genji,” she breathes, grasping his hand between her own. Her lips touch the tip of his fingers. “I can’t restore your natural arm, but I can heal the rest of the damage done. It won’t hurt anymore.”

His eyelids flutter, finding her face basked in sunlight.

“You are too important to me to lose.” He breathes weakly. “That is not foolish.”

Her heart leaps, painful and warm, all at once.

“Oh, I didn’t mean… Genji.” She kisses his knuckles, blinking back the stinging in her eyes. The sensation is far worse than when the smoke attached her irises. “I was suppose to protect you. I should have. I could have saved you from this pain.”

A sob threatens her chest, but she contains it. Genji’s black hair falls against the blades of grass as he turns his head ever so slightly.

“You have always protected me,” he murmurs, barely awake. His hand grasps hers back, shocking her with his strength.

Yet, she feels as if she has never done so.

Mercy clears her throat before lowering his hand. Letting it fall to the ground, she brushes her fingers through his hair. His eyelids close at the comfort. She leans over him for a moment more, lingering.

“You are too important to me to lose as well, over everything else,” Mercy confesses. “I would give my entire forest for your safety.”

As if peering at the sun, sepia irises that captivate her soul fine her. She does not need to swear by her name for him to know it is the truth. Her home only burns now, but it has brought forth the light of the situation.

He is her love. A new piece of her home.

“Rest now,” she murmurs gently, before straightening.

The delicate flutter of her wings become still as her hands begin to glow. Glittering effects fall from her fingertips as she brings her three middle fingers to his forehead. He holds still under her touch. Down his front, she touches his heart. An impression of glowing light stays in her wake through the fabric of his shirt. Her fingers touch his navel before lifting away.

He peers up at her as she speaks.

_“Genji.”_

She gives it into the air like a prayer. The glowing circles on his person brighten for a moment. The wind shifts through the lemon grass and blows the scent of pine sap into her senses. It rushes over him, whipping his hair as he closes his eyes with a silent groan. Casting her enchantment in words humans could never understand, the twisted set in Genji’s brow slowly loosens.

The world stills once more. Genji breathes out softly, as if finally breaking through the surface of a great lake. Her hand, no longer glowing, falls against his shoulder.

The stump of his right arm is as it was. The invisible hope she held in her heart slowly disappears into the cold air. It’s foolish, she already knows she can’t heal it entirely. The pink scars are a little less prominent, but there is no denying the violence that when into his skin.

She can’t help the breath that falls from her mouth. Agony doesn’t rake through his flesh anymore. The magic worked away the pain and healed the remaining pieces of his wound. Gently, she shifts his weary head back onto her lap. Having his beating heart against her skin relaxes the tension in her shoulders somewhat.

“How do you feel?” she speaks softly.

Easing open his eyelids, the clear gaze taking her soul in is already steady. Worry colors the layered browns in his eyes, but there is not much she can do for that affliction now.

“Better, much better,” he murmurs. The strong tones in his voice are even lifting. “It doesn’t hurt anymore but I…”

He can’t feel his arm. It’s gone. There’s nothing left.

“Genji,” the crack in her voice almost stops her, “I can give you a new arm.”

His brow furrows. Through the faint sunlight touching them, he studies her expression.

“What do you mean?” he asks, almost hopeful.

“I can craft an arm for you with my magic,” she begins softly. “It can be made out of whatever material you desire. Stone, earth, wood. It would function just as well as your other. It would last your entire life.”

A breath raises his chest starkly. His remaining arm moves through the air for a moment. Reaching across his body, he touches the stump. She holds back a trembling lip at the scars underneath his fingertips, but Genji keeps it there.

“Please, Genji.”

Her heart needs him to let her do this. For his family. For himself.

Whether he trusts her magic enough is his choice. If he fears something unnatural being apart of him more than being rendered handicap, he will say so. Mercy holds her breath. Her wings nearly flutter, flaring up painfully so with the motion, before Genji meets her gaze.

“Will it be hard for you?” he asks.

“No,” her quick answer. “What do you want it to be made of?”

His hand squeezes his stump once. Closing his eyes, he turns into her person.

“I don’t care. You decide.”

Catching her breath, she holds it in her lungs. She can do that for him.

“Come here. Please,” he whispers. Pulling her away from thoughts of preparations, Mercy leans down.

His hand leaves the pink scars to touch her cheek. Rough calluses cradle her skin. They only bring comfort to her bones as her hand covers his. Moving ever so slightly, her lips kiss his palm. He doesn’t blink away from her close presence, as if mesmerizing the details of her face for fear of never seeing it again. Or, grateful for what is still here.

She promises to make him a beautiful arm.

Her lingering magic helps her carry him back to the edge of the pond. He asks about Hanzo, what Moira could have done with him. The only reassurance they have is that Moira isn’t one to waste servants, especially since she probably knows that Hanzo is his brother. There is no doubt she’ll use that to her advantage. His jaw tenses. He swears that he’ll free Hanzo from the fae but Mercy is cautious.

They can only save Hanzo if Moira gives up his name.

For now, her focus remains on making Genji an arm. She readies to leave Genji in the Lindholm’s care to begin scouting for materials but Ingrid all but forces her to lay down beside the pond. Denying her exhaustion is useless yet Mercy still tries. Genji even manipulates her weakness by asking her to lay with him. His recovery is still in effect and he needs the rest.

She gives in, and they both sleep until evening. Then, promising her swift return with a kiss to Genji’s cheek, she goes into the forest.

What little energy she recovers eases the anxiety buzzing in her veins. From the burning trees to Genji’s brother being enchanted, it all swims through her blood. The chance to walk alone through the remaining part of her home is both calming and depressing.

To imagine where the willow trees that made up the walls of her house once stood burdens her heart. There can only be ash now.

Mercy walks, unable to use her wings properly as they still sting with the aftermath of searing heat. Through the trees, she searches for anything worthy of Genji’s person.

A young white oak comes across her path, It is hardly twice her height, but it is strong. The wood is a pale color. Her hand touches the bark. It cools her skin. There is no choice but this for her love.

Carving out a large section of its trunk with an enchantment on her lips, Mercy heaves the log into her arms. The sturdy density reassures her of her choice. She doesn’t leave the oak to suffer. Glittering magic falls into it’s broken bark, slowly nursing the tree with accelerated growth. The young oak will tower above its siblings one day.

She walks gently with her precious cargo. The oak touches her skin. For a moment, Mercy imagines her soul seeping into the wood, blessing it to serve Genji well.

Returning to the pond drips relief and resurfaces worry in her heart. Genji is asleep once again as Brigitte watches over him. His settled face no longer twists with physical pain, but anguish still hides. Her fingertips brush his cheek gently.

“Can you work with this?” she asks Torbjörn. Ingrid studies the pale wood in the faint starlight. Her stone hand falls against it for a moment in approval.

“Couldn’t you have picked some pretty rock?” he grumbles once. Leaning over the log of wood in her arms, he sighs. “I can craft this into a fine arm with your help.”

“Of course,” she breathes out.

“It will be lovely,” Ingrid reassures. Her gentle smile lifts Mercy’s spirits.

Torbjörn only possesses a few of his tools, but it’s enough to begin shaping the wood. She steadies her hands to smooth along his design. Quietly, as to not disturb Genji’s slumber, they work beside his remaining arm for reference. Her magic gently flows into the pale material. Glitter seeps into the lines of the wood as to prepare for its next phase.

The heart in her chest beats steadily at still giving Genji some relief. This won’t entirely take away his loss, but it will give him a full life.

By early morning, a wooden arm awaits a connecting shoulder. Mercy holds it in her lap as the last of her needed magic is ingrained into the white oak. The fingers are molded as Genji’s own, strong and sturdy. The palm swirls with a pale design but the added strength to the wood keeps balance to his person. It is solid with Genji’s own strength.

She draws a breath. It fills her lungs with the peeking dawn and the gentle dew glistening on the grass surrounding them.

This arm will never fail him. She will give him that.

With the blade of one of Torbjörn’s tools, Mercy grasps the bottom right edge of her wing. The healing membrane stings from her touch. It doesn’t slow her purpose as she tugs it around to her side. Holding the glowing, pointed end, Mercy cuts the edge off swiftly. Not one sound of pain escapes her throat. Ingrid’s soft note of empathy echoes in her ears as she takes the fragile piece of her wing. It still glows like a piece of the sun in her palm, thin as a flower petal.

With the tip of her middle finger, Mercy splits the wooden arm in half. The hammering of her heart moves with the motion of her hand. Placing the tip of her wing in the center of the wood, she brings the two halves back together. A gentle, yellow glow begins from the center and works outwards as the wood seals itself back together. One final shimmer of magic creates Genji’s new arm.

A piece of her magic will always protect him now. Just as he gave up a part of himself, she gives him this.

As the first rays of sunlight touch the earth, Mercy gently shakes Genji awake. His eyes widen, trying to separate dark dreams from reality but he settles at the sight of her face.

She delicately presents the wooden arm. His lips part at the sight of its mirror mold to his remaining left. Reaching out, he stalls a moment as his stump still remains, devoid of its natural limb. Then, as if feeling soft cotton for the first time, he touches the pale wood.

“I know it’s not your own flesh and bone,” Mercy speaks, “but it will never fail you. The wood will never rot, and it will keep up with your left. If you don’t want this, I can find something else to make it—”

“No,” he says, just as softly. His eyes flicker with the haunted edge of lost. Yet, a silent hope gleams in his eyes. “This is perfect.”

Brigitte softly pats Genji’s uninjured shoulder before drawing away. The Lindholms give a kind privacy as Mercy shifts over to his right side. Laying in the grass, Genji clings to Mercy’s careful movements with heavy eyes. Brown blood stains stick to the side of his shirt as she sets the wooden arm beside him.

“Binding the wood to your body will be painful,” her voice is as gentle as the warm morning. Her hand touches his cheek. “I can put you to sleep through it.”

“No,” his natural hand covers her own. He presses her palm securely against his skin. “I can’t sleep anymore.”

Her brow furrows but she doesn’t deny his request. She didn’t speak of knowing sooner if the wood bond properly if he’s kept awake, but that is a mute point now. Instead, she leans down to kiss his forehead.

“It will be quick,” she promises. Drawing back her hand, his fingertips drag away slowly. Reluctant to let her go.

“Brigitte, Torbjörn, Ingrid,” she calls for her family. They quickly surround the two as Mercy asks for their assistance. The stone women's’ weight is nothing Genji can fight against, even in pain. Ingrid lays across Genji’s waist as Brigitte takes his shoulders in her secure hold. Any struggle will make attaching his arm all the more difficult.

Torbjörn stands behind Mercy’s left shoulder. He pats her back once with encouragement as her hands begin to glow. Genji’s sepia stare holds her heart in a gentle embrace before she nods once. He holds no fear, and neither will she.

Her hands have healed so much before. The energy that beams from her veins and burns in her heart is for him. Her protection is not of weakness or failure. It’s of the future, and each breath he takes. It’s for her own home.

Slowly, she touches the top of the wooden arm to Genji’s scarred flesh. Magic spills out of her mouth like a waterfall. The wood reaches out with winding tendrils to attach to his arm, digging into the bone and flesh of what remains. He fights to keep still, but grunts of pain escape his clenched jaw. Ingrid murmurs comforts as his taunt body fights against the strength of the stone golems. With glittering effects, wood grows over Genji’s flesh, like the roots of a tree over a boulder. It spills into his blood as he gasps through grinding teeth.

Mercy’s enchantment comes to an end. Her hands no longer support the wooden arm against his stump. As she releases her hold, the glow in her skin and Genji’s wooden arm dies away. He sucks in a sharp breath, composing himself.

“Genji,” Mercy asks with a quiet plea for her magic to be unwavering.

He opens his eyes as Ingrid and Brigitte release him. Slowly, as if wondering the possibility, a white oak finger twitches. A whisper of slow caution comes from the fairy as he marvels. The connection of wood and flesh together on his shoulder takes his attention. His brow furrows, determined.

Through the sharp rays of the morning sun, Genji lifts his new, enchanted arm made of pale wood. His eyes drink in the conscious movement keeping with the commands of his nerves. Her lungs stay still in his study. Clenching a fist, he loosens it the next moment. Between his new fingers, sunlight almost falls upon his face. It is truly his.

“My arm…” is all he whispers. Turning his head, he meets her concern and parted lips. Something fearful twists on his expression, but it isn’t enough to hold him back.

Gently, he reaches out with the white oak of his hand. The lakes in her eyes being to flood with joy as the warm wood cups her cheek. A quiet, startled breath leaves his mouth at the sensations he must feel despite the impossibility of it all.

A wooden thumb brushes her cheek, stunned. It overwhelms his lungs as it does for her. He whispers her name, like giving thanks to a heavenly being.

She covers his new hand, and kisses his white oak palm.  


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conspiring on how to get Moira to give up Hanzo’s name, Genji and Mercy set out into the burned forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing fairy!Mercy has been a treat, especially when she interacts with a certain lumberjack. I hope you enjoy!

Genji holds out his two hands, side by side. His palms face up as the smallest twitch in his little fingers move in synchronization. Shaped like a mirror image, there is little differences, save for the fact that his right arm is carved out of a young white oak.

Sensations and textures, even temperatures and pressure fill his enchanted arm. It’s not different, but it feels foreign, as if holding a walking stick and suddenly being able to feel the dirt ground when leaning onto it. Viewing the carved design, and actually feeling Mercy’s warmth through his palm stops his heart.

He will have to hide this for the rest of his days, least other, fearful men regard him as cursed.

“Genji?” her soft voice dips into concern, “Is everything okay?”

He tears his eyes away from his two hands, minding the flesh and wood. Beside the small pond, Mercy hands him a flask. The water is clearer than the green color from the pond. They kneel together, side by side.

“Yes,” he speaks softly.

His weak attempt does little to convince her. To ease her crinkled brow, he sips the water, letting it spill over his dry tongue.

“Mercy,” he says as he lowers the flask. She holds out her hands, patiently giving him the choice to accept. He does. Her fingers rub over the knuckles of his flesh and wooden hand as if there is no difference. Her warmth soaks into his nerves, both artificial and natural.

“We must save Hanzo from Moira.”

His brother still remains in the clutches of the wicked fae. The worry that Genji let fester inside of Hanzo drove him after his younger brother, into the dark woods. Genji may as well have handed Moira his brother on a silver platter. He should have known Hanzo would have acted, would have been deceived by such an evil creature.

Dwelling on the horrible acts the fae has forced Hanzo to do sets his heart in an icy cage. While Genji sleeps and recovers, Hanzo remains captive.

“We will,” Mercy promises. Nothing shimmers or gives doubt in her eyes. “I’m still thinking on how best it is to do this. You must understand, Genji. Moira is cunning and intelligent. She took Hanzo’s name knowing of the advantage it would give her.”

The fairy’s wings are spread open across her back, resting and healing. The black soot and burned edges have given way to tender, nearly white veins along their translucent texture. Like lines in a flower petal. The very bottom tip of one wing is still cut, lacking a small piece of itself. She reassures him that her wings will change back to their glowing yellow color when they are fully recovered.

He asks her for help, for he could not hope to do this alone.

“Why would she want to take a human name?” Genji asks in a boiling tone. There is no reason to hide his contempt for the evil fae.

“I’m not entirely sure,” she confesses, frustrated. “She had human servants in the past, until she spent their souls. Why she took your brother…”

Her voice disappears. Studying the sudden shadow passing over her cheeks, Genji leans closer.

“Mercy?” he presses.

Closing her eyes, only for a moment, Mercy squeezes his hands.

“Moira is hoping that by having Hanzo’s name in her possession, she can use it to get my true name.”

The fairy’s true name. He asked of it before. She told him to not worry about it. Not out of spite or distrust, but out of defense. A form of precaution.

Names have power, as she had explained before. Names can give those who wield it great control over the one they call out. Mercy’s own magic is unparalleled. If Moira had that—had Mercy under her control…

The shock of his expression spurs Mercy to reassurance.

“Genji, it’s alright,” she says. “We will think of something.”

He doesn’t blink.

“She won’t give up Hanzo’s name for anything else, will she?” He asks, but he already knows the answer.

Her brow falls for a second before she catches it. It’s too late. Genji doesn’t need her to confess her thoughts.

“She is not taking your true name,” his voice rises. Wood and flesh fingers curl over hers, anchoring her here before the fae can snatch her up. “There must be another way.”

“There is,” Mercy lifts her shoulders, determined. The attempt of her wings to flutter are met with a wince. On reflex, he lifts his hand but lowers it as she shakes her head, waving away his worry. “I’m fine. Moira wants nothing else but my true name but if we are clever enough, we can trick her.”

“Trick her?” his eyes only hold hers. The icicles chaining his heart in fear for his family thaw ever so slightly. “How so?”

Mercy smiles in a small glimpse of hope when she says, “Humans can lie.”

His brow furrows, looking away before returning to her.

“Yes?” he says. “Are you saying you can’t?”

“My kind can’t, no,” she explains. “That’s why most learn to be deceptive and manipulative with their words, like Moira.”

The revelation stuns him in a way he didn’t think he could be. He’s never worried about lies from the fairy, but he hasn’t truly appreciated how honest she was always being with him. A quiet thought touches him, wondering if he’s done the same for her.

The corner of her lips tug downwards as divots appear in her brow. Just as quickly as the hope comes, it falls back.

“I don’t like the idea of you being anywhere near Moira—”

Genji leans forward, finding her eyes through her own doubt.

“Whatever it is, I’ll do it, Mercy,” his plea echoes against the pond surface. “Hanzo can’t be near that fae any longer.”

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, unhappy at what swirls in her mind. Does she only see the wicked woman taking away his brother, or even himself? Is all that splatters through her mind blood and red fires?

His tongue lifts, willing her to understand but her choice is already made. The kind nature of her heart wins over most other logic.

“If Moira is to give up Hanzo’s name,” she begins carefully, treading unstable ground, “We have to make her believe she’s getting exactly what she wants.”

Genji stills. His wooden hand curls into a fist in his lap. This tension doesn’t go by without notice. As delicate as a dandelion, his enchanted arm is taken between both of her palms. Gentle nudges from her fingertips ease open his white oak fist.

“I have to be the one to make a deal with her,” he speaks, already accepting.  

Her nod is slow, reluctant in a fearing nature.

“A deal involving my true name,” Mercy almost whispers.

*

The differences between humans and fae like creatures such as Mercy and Moira are greatest in relation to their names. Genji can speak his all he likes, but if Moira asked for it, and he willingly gave it, she would have him at her disposal.

A fae’s true name is never spoken. For it doesn’t have to be given, only heard, to be used against their will.

The lingering presence of the stone golems’ arms around his shoulders still weighs him down. Ingrid and Brigitte would rather Moira simply drown in the pond, but their sympathy for his brother is soft. The threats from the dwarf make out his punishment to be worse if they somehow fall to the fae, so they must be careful. Mercy knows what worrying hides behind his bold words and promises a swift return.

The fairy’s wings flutter without painful winces crossing her expression. One magically appendage hangs over his backside as they walk. Genji keeps his wooden arm tucked away, and laces his flesh fingers with her own. Glancing concern keeps returning to him in her eyes. He smiles reassuringly as they brush past leaves and tree trunks.

He’s done nothing for far too long. Recovery and rest are battles they both fight, but insist the other succumb to. They pull through their weary, anxious states by kissing the other’s palm, or brushing fingers through soft hair.

Her hand turns into an iron grasp at the turn of the wind. Smoke, lingering in its finality, steals into their lungs. He looks to her, knowing what burning devastation flashes through her open eyes now.

“You stopped the fire from advancing,” he slips into her side, almost as if to shield her away. There is no victory in this. The green foliage won’t hide the ash and black remains forever. “You kept a lot of creatures safe.”

A ragged breath leaves her throat before she closes her eyes. Eyelashes tremble over pale skin for only a moment before she faces the forest once more.

“I should have done more,” she whispers.

“No,” his fingers take her chin, easing her away from the scene awaiting them. “No one else could have done better for the forest. Nothing would be here now if you hadn’t acted.”

Crestfallen stars dot her cheekbones. His heart aches at the sight of the fairy. Her wings even droop, dimming in her sorrow.

“Mercy, I can’t say I know what it’s like to lose so much of your home,” he begins softly, “but this isn’t forever. It will remake itself, and you can rebuild.”

Her pink lips press together, willing to fall to the smell of faded smoke and her own ruined house of willows, but she breathes out. Slowly, like the breeze of a sunny morning.

“This will grow again,” she speaks into reality.

Overwhelmed at her firm and kind stature, Genji leans forward. He touches her hairline with a kiss. Another quiet breath escapes her, focused. Lowing his fingertips from her chin, he takes her hand once more.

Continuing on, they walk through the tall, standing trees and into the jagged, black line of where the fire feasted. Mercy’s wings stop dead when the tumbling noises of the small stream echo. Her magic was spent on the barrier, but it fell back into its path as if flecks of ash doesn’t fall onto its clear surface. Standing at the separation between the green and black, they cross over it.

“We’ll find Moira here,” Mercy says as they step onto a graveyard of charred stumps and black skeletons of trees. “Remember to not speak to her.”

He nods. His wooden palm longs to wrap around the handle of an ax as he follows the fairy through an invisible path. Her heart still knows the way. Her brow crumples at the dark wasteland they cross into, but she gives a soft ‘yes’ when Genji asks if she’s alright.

The vague feeling of walking to Mercy’s willow tree home almost leaks into his senses. She shouldn’t have to see such a grim picture. This alone is doing enough damage as their eyes blink away floating pieces of ash and breathing through wisps of smoke.

They never make it. Mercy frees her hand to hold out an arm in front of Genji, stopping in a black, crumpling place of where a meadow once stood. A second later, Genji’s heart rate speeds up. The eerie, buried sense telling of him danger appears in the form of a tall, skinny fae woman.

“You let me wait long enough,” she speaks. Surrounded by an almost black space of burnt tree limbs, this becomes the cruel queen’s throne room. Her pointed ears still catch his eyes against the backdrop of her burning hair. Still, no wings. Maybe the devil has pointed ears too.

Invisible to Moira, Genji’s flesh hand falls to the small of Mercy’s back. Between her wings, his fingertips barely hover. The knotting in his stomach demands that he scoop up Mercy and carry her far away. He stands beside her, facing the wicked creature.

There is no glimpse of Hanzo. Genji’s teeth snap together so forcefully, a click echoes. His glare turns onto the fae.  Mercy only reflects his own surging soul.

“How dare you,” she demands, and then snarls, “Look at where you stand. Does this mean nothing to you? You’ve destroyed so much.”

Tense wings brush against the inside of his arm. Moira narrows her brow. There is little else on her expression, much less regret or sorrow.

“You were already letting the lumberjacks do that,” her voice is all blades and ice, “My method was only a little faster. Actually, it was your brother’s method, but it’s terrible to waste an opportunity when it presents itself.”

Mercy’s jaw tightens, mimicking Genji’s expression. To lunge forward and order her to give up Hanzo waits at the end of his nerves.

The fae’s eyes fall to Genji’s right arm. Her brow lifts for a moment, intrigued. He shifts but it’s too late to hide his enchanted limb.

“Moira, give up the human’s name,” Mercy orders firmly. One step takes her forward, even more so in front of Genji. Her wings form a delicate, yellow shield in front of Genji’s heart. His hand falls away from her back, cooled in the evening dusk.

“In exchanged for what?” The fae cuts down to it, like a swing of an ax.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she says, firm.

“There’s a price for what you want.” One eye of red and one eye of blue sets onto Genji. His soul trembles. “Connections between humans are strange enough that they would betray everything for one of their own. There’s no doubt that your lumberjack would pay it.”

“Where is he?” Genji demands, stepping forward once before Mercy whips her head around. Silently, she shakes her head, eyes wide at his impulse.

“He’s without harm,” she says. A delicious taste falls over her mouth at his bared teeth and tight fists.

“Shush,” Mercy orders before facing the fae. “What else do you want?”

“There is only one thing that will do. A name for a name.” Long nails steeple together in front of Moira’s torso, poised to sink into flesh. “Are you willing to pay it, Mercy?”

In a slow turn, Genji takes in her heavy eyes. The answer lies in the lines of her face. She can’t give it up.

“What do you mean ‘a name for a name?’” He steps forward, much to Mercy’s stunned expression. Her wings settle together as she turns. Placing her hands on his chest, she attempts to guide him backwards, but Genji stands like a tree.

The fae’s eyes glint.

“The fairy’s true name in exchange for me giving up your brother’s. Nothing else will suffice.”

His lips part, breathless. Looking back to her expression, the slightest guilt splatters across Mercy’s skin. Like a choking, dying tree facing the drying sun.

“Mercy,” he whispers as he begs.

“Shush, Genji. Don’t speak,” she urges, although for a different reason. Golden hair swings as she tosses a look over her shoulder, back to Moira.

“I am not giving you my true name.” There is no question in her voice. Moira knows this. Her brow furrows and her thin lips press together.

Unforgiving eyes sweep back to Genji when she says, “Then your brother is mine forever.”

“No, wait—” his wooden hand reaches forward but its powerless against the black smoke enveloping the fae’s body. Catching a sharp gush which carries pieces of ash, she disappears.

The lumberjack and fairy remain. Charred stumps and soot surround their feet as grief sears their skin.

“Come, there’s no point in staying here,” Mercy murmurs. Her hands fall away from his chest to take his fingers. Gently tugging his wooden hand, his eyes follow the motion. She doesn’t say another word of their encounter.

He turns back, once. Searching through the burned trunks that remain, he wills the fae to appear again, as if she’d have Hanzo this time.

Her gentle urgings take him away from their failure, but it digs into his bones and travels with him.

*

Through the moonlight, Genji walks silently. Soft ash mutes his footsteps and dark soot covers his tracks. His heartbeat is steady, alone in the wild land of what remains after the fire. Lacking the guidance of the fairy sets every sense on edge. He anticipates evil, glowing eyes staring from a distance.

There is no stopping now. He crosses the little stream and wanders into the skeletons left over. Black trunks and branches rake through the air like fingers crawling out of a grave. His breath stops in his lungs when the once beautiful meadow opens before him in a show of black and ruined foliage.

“Can you deny that you humans are ruled by your heart?”

His skin crawls at the voice, even his wooden arm becomes chilled. Through three, blacken trees that stand like burnt stakes, Moira emerges. The dust her form takes settles back into a human figure, save for her pointed ears.

“Why else would you have returned, save for the love you have for your brother?” she asks, knowing the answer. “There is no denying your nature. I’m only surprised it took you this long.”

Grinding his teeth, Genji brings himself to his full height. A slight, unimpressed lift to her brow strikes his heart as she steps closer. She’s much too tall, and bony. The cards appear to be all in her hands.

“But Mercy?” Moira steps in a graceful, long stride that leaves only inches between their bodies. His glare does little to stop her study of his enchanted arm. “She is weak, and cannot do what needs to be done. She refused to save your brother, didn’t she?”

He hesitates. The opening allows the predator to ready for her prey.

“Your arguments with the fairy are understandable.”

He jerks his head up, blinking at the statement. The fae’s thin lip smile only grows.

“I do not miss what happens on these lands.” The low edge to her voice digs into his spine, warning of what awaits. “You want Hanzo, but she won’t save him for you.”

“Let me see him,” he demands. Fists clench, wishing for an ax.

Cooly, she regards him before waving long nails through the air. Black smoke rises behind the black trees circling the former meadow. Sweeping towards the fae, the dark mist swirls a few feet away before dissipating, leaving Hanzo in its place.

He kneels, head bowed as if baring a great weight. His once neat and careful hair now falls around him, free of its tie. Soot and scratches cover his skin. His eyes can’t even lift to view the place he’s now forced into. A tremble moves through his jawline, as if testing the glue that keeps his mouth shut.

Genji blinks away burning images of Mercy, and Hanzo wielding an ax with the intent to bring it down on her head. A flare of pair erupts at the base of his shoulder, where the enchanted wood and his flesh connect. Nothing bleeds anymore, but his bones remember the pain, the panic.

He had no will then. The fae’s wicked magic forced him to swing the ax. Genji’s blame knows where it lies.

Steeling himself, Genji steps forward.

“Hanzo—”

One narrow arm cuts in front of him. He looks up to the fae’s cold expression.

“Do you know her true name, lumberjack?”

His lips part, almost guilty as he falls back to the sight of his brother. He hasn’t moved an inch since appearing. The only comfort he has is the rise and fall of his backside, giving away breaths.

“You do know it. She loved you enough to give it to you,” she almost sounds disappointed, as if expecting better from the fairy.

“What would you do with her, if you had her name?” his voice is quiet. It echoes in its betrayal.

“Make the very best of her magic, as she should have done long ago,” Moira speaks. She holds back, refusing eagerness at his hypothetical question. “Don’t fear. I intend to use her for a long time, so I will take care of her.”

A cold gust of wind fills his lungs at Moira’s long claws encircling Mercy’s beautiful wings. His shoulders hunch as his hands come together. Flesh and wood interlock. He flings them apart, almost scowling. The lack of humanity he carries will never be dropped or freed from his skin.

“She didn’t save you, either. Did she?” Her cutting voice lowers into his eardrum, like a second, dying heart.

Nails as wicked as daggers trail over the bicep of the wooden appendage. He jerks away a second too late, baring his teeth as her hand withdraws.

“Don’t touch me.”

That hand is not the one he knows. Its magic does not carry with him, safe and caring.

Moira straightens. Unrelenting in acting as the barrier between himself and his brother, the fae stares down.

“She has failed you again and again,” she speaks. “Give me her true name, and you will leave this place with your brother. You already know who is more important.”

Insistent leaves him with little room. There is only two choices. The fairy, or Hanzo. His own blood, or the creature he’s fallen in love with. His brow crumples at the prospect. The fae is patient, shifting ever so slightly as to show what is at stake on one end.

Guilt and decisions come together as one. Lifting his eyes, the fae smiles.

“I will only make the exchange if you promise upon your name,” he gives slowly. Shame burns into his stance.

A slant falls upon her brow. If knowing how to make proper deals with fae creatures gives him away, there is nothing else he can do. Regarding him in a long, silent heart beat, the fae looks back to Hanzo. Moira’s expression remains hard and unreadable, but her lips part.

“I promise upon my name that if you give me Mercy’s true name, I will tell you of your brother’s name.”

“No,” Genji’s voice rings sharply. “No, you must give up his name, or we will not make an exchange.”

Her lips press together, thin and unamused before waving her nails through the air in dismissal. Red hair burns as she faces him once more. Her failed trickery boils his blood at just the thought.

“Fine. I promise upon my name that if you give me Mercy’s true name, I will give up your brother’s name.”

The ash around their feet rises as a cool wind whips through the night. Briefly, flickering flames echo in his eardrums before fading away.

Genji breathes slowly, facing the fae who keeps Hanzo locked against his will. He lets go of guilt to save his brother.

“Her true name is Angel.”

The smell of morning dew and dandelions invades his senses. A sinister smile that erupts from fire and red comes onto Moira’s lips. She calls out the word, lifting her chin as she waits.

Cold, pale blood pumps through Genji’s veins. Victory is just at Moira’s fingertips. She doesn’t relent, awaiting the sound of sharp fluttering wings that break through the burned wasteland.

In seconds, a yellow glow falls over stumps and ash. The fairy’s mouth is agape, stunned as she stops in a stiff, unwilling motion before Moira. The wind left from her flight stirs up soot and ash.

Wide eyes, shimmering in fear, turn upon Genji.

“Genji… tell me you didn’t.” she pleads.

He can’t meet her face, lowering his gaze to the ground.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, lumberjack,” Moira steps forward, towering over the fairy. Fluttering wings long to take off once more, but she’s frozen in the looming shadow of the fae. “Angel, kneel, and be silent.”

Muscles strain and tremble as Mercy’s head drops. Her fists curl tightly, as if bracing for a flood. Seconds pass, before a groan escapes her mouth. The fairy lowers herself to the ground in a jerky, mechanical motion. At Moira’s feet, Mercy stays.

Sickness falls into Genji’s stomach. Ripping his gaze away from Mercy, Moira’s satisfaction drips from her shoulders. She turns, facing him once more.

“I give up Hanzo’s name.”

Smoke rises around their feet, especially near Hanzo’s hunched form. In seconds, the wind picks up and dies. Gasping out, as if breaking through the surface of deep water, Hanzo lifts his eyes. His desperate, terrified eyes cling to Genji’s person like the last fleeting piece of hope. He whispers something, before he collapses entirely.

“Hanzo!” Genji cries.

“Angel, stand and follow me,” Moira’s command echoes as she turns away from both brothers. She steps towards the three blacken trees. Wings flutter, and Mercy rises to her feet, but she doesn’t step forward.

Sharp, different colored eyes return to the fairy. For a moment, her expression freezes.

“Angela, follow me,” she says once more, sternly.

Mercy’s wings remain steady. Stepping to her side, Genji regards the fae with a quiet defiance. The fairy lifts her chin.

“No,” Mercy speaks clearly. Nothing trembles or resists. She simply stands.

It takes moments to crash together. The truth flares out in raging fires that dies just as swiftly. Moira’s jaw tenses.  

“You lied, and you will pay the price,” she speaks slowly, lifting her right hand. A swell of dark purple mist begins to bloom in her vein palm.

“He didn’t lie,” Mercy steps in front of Genji, wings flared.

“I told you what I _think_ as her true name.” His hand touches her, unwilling to leave her facing the enemy alone. His bold statement brings burning fury to Moira’s eyes, as if witnessing the more raw parts of wicked magic.

The fae boils where she stands. With claws bared and her burning form just before them, she steps forward. In seconds, Mercy throws her hand to the air, conjuring a bubble of golden, shimmering light over both of their bodies.

“Wretched thing,” she hisses. Wide eyes swirl into a mad revenge upon Genji.

“Leave this forest and never return, Moira,” Mercy commands. Her voice lifts in her own magic as Genji stands in awe. “It is under my protection. You will never have this place for your own.”

Writhing, burning eyes turn sharply. She lands upon Hanzo’s unconscious form. Before Genji can shout in warning, both fae creatures lunge. Mercy’s umbrella of protection expands in a flash of light as Moira’s smoky form rushes his brother.

Golden light falls over Hanzo’s body like a blanket. Black smoke sparks and hisses at colliding with the magical barrier, as if a solid surface. It withers in mad bursts, shoving against the light as Mercy’s teeth bares against it. Her hand never lowers or trembles. The settled scent of defeat casts triumph upon the black land.

The smoky form of the wicked fae falls back to the skeleton of trees, and slips away like a forgotten fire succumbing to embers.

*

He called her ‘Angel’ three times before they executed their plan. It was whispered in her ears. The small sound of lips parting in an audible kiss followed after, pressed against her pointed ears. She wanted to shake her head, to correct him, but it was for the sake of saving his brother.

Their argument was loud. Genji had already planted the seed of deceptive wonder in Moira. How could she resist seeing hers and his varying reactions to her ultimatum? She believed their biting, shouting words. She believed Genji’s soul had been torn enough to give in to the wicked fae and trade the fairy for his brother.

Her ambition ran past her suspicion. Genji almost slipped up, but the pose of sorrowful betrayal took her by storm. Acting along, pulling the wind and creating the essence of magic in the air, Mercy danced along the puppet strings until Moira believed her to be just that.

Hanzo doesn’t move, frightening his younger brother before Mercy promises that he’ll recover from the fae’s magic. Her own touch even lightens his flesh. Having his will stripped away is a torture, but if he’s like Genji, he’ll come back to him and his mother. Genji carries Hanzo on his back. Their steps are quieten by the layer of ash upon the ground, broken only by the clearing of which the lumberjacks once made their camp.

With his enchanted arm, Genji lowers his brother to the ground. Mercy stands by, studying deserted tools and cots, most of which are scorched by flames.

“We have to go to our mother. She must be thinking the worst,” Genji says, somber. His brow still furrows, turned upon her.

“Go,” she breathes, taking his cheek in her hand. Darkness slips around their edges, waiting to pounce upon weary hearts but it will go away dissatisfied.

They both stand here, strong and well. Singe and bruised, but alive. The lumberjack and fairy still hold each other close. There is no more battle, just the hope for survival.

“What are you going to do?” he asks. Slowly, his wooden fingers brush back a bang that blinds on eye. Freeing her sight, she breathes softly at his lingering touch.

“Help the creatures of the forest. We must rebuild, and relocate as thankfully, not everything was destroy. We can live peacefully again.”

He lowers his gaze, as if tasting something not entirely pleasant.

“I’m sorry, Mercy. This shouldn’t have happened to you.”

“No,” her hand covers his lips, causing him to meet her gaze once more in curious surprise. “No more apologies. It’s time to continue forward.”

She smiles, like a leave about to fall due to fall’s cold change, but it only gives space for something better to come again.

His fingers wrap around her own, freeing it from his face to pull her closer. Arms wrap around her waist, embracing her like the night sky meeting the earth. She curves to his will, hugging his shoulders and burying her cheek beside his own.

Before he takes his brother and returns to their home, Mercy takes extra cloth from one untouched cot, and adds length to Genji’s sleeves, and craft gloves. It’s only to cover the wooden limb, as neither could guess the reaction of it by the other humans.

He makes a fist when she finishes. Without previous knowledge, no one can see the difference in shape or form in either arm. She can’t refuse how he tenses slightly when looking at, or even moving it, but one day, she hopes, it won’t be different from himself.

Genji carries Hanzo away from the burnt edge of her home. She waits, watching his outline disappear against the rising dawn. Only when he leaves her view entirely does she return to the ruined forest. Her heart is heavy, but it is with relief and peace this day.

*

Soft blades of grass tickle her skin. In a meadow bright with sunshine, saplings circle the flowers within. Their growth suggest more than two years have passed, but magic can be tricky like that.

Genji lays still. One hand of flesh and one hand of wood holds her hips, keeping her steady as she stretches on top of him. His fingers leave soft designs lingering in the yellow glow of her wings. In between her shoulder blades, where her wings spring out, shivers erupt at his kind presence.

“Mom wants you to visit again,” Genji murmurs. Carefully lifting her head, her smile shines down on his half lidded gaze. He needs to take a nap.

“Is there another festival soon?” she asks, touching one black lock away from his forehead.

“No, she just misses you,” he smiles. “Hanzo is due to visit shortly as well. Some of his letters say that he’s found someone nice. I think she wants all of her family to be together for a day.”

A hum moves through her throat. Umi has grown somewhat lonely after Hanzo went farther south, running from the harm he did his brother and searching for something beyond what other humans know. After six months, Mercy tracked him down, only for Genji’s peace of mind. After eight, Hanzo started writing letters to Genji and their mother. His most recent seem to be lighter, forgiving. Genji still prays that he’ll see that it wasn’t his fault.

The weeks following Moira’s disappearance from the trees forced patience onto Mercy. She feared of Umi’s reaction to Genji’s wooden arm, but there was no need for such worry. When Genji finally returned, he delivered a letter to Mercy’s hands, written in elegant script. Gratitude and earnestness from Umi spoke of how merciful the angel is to be watching out for her two boys. The letter still rests on a shelf in Mercy’s house.

Genji hasn’t gone too far, as the lumberjacks still chops wood as needed.

The fire blessed her home in undeniable ways. The charred and blackened wood forced the company to pick up its axes and saws for better land. Reinhardt, the towering man, sees that they work far away from this place. It’s delightful, but difficult for Genji to make the trip back to this forest, and into town.

Dark cloth still hides his arms whenever he leaves this meadow. He jokes of the whispers that travel on hushed lips about him being cursed by a deadly creature that hides in the trees. A deep pain pulsates at the thought, but Genji takes her hand with his wooden one, and squeezes the terribleness away.

He’s whole, entirely unafraid, and unrestricted.

She finds him in the sunlight. Just like their first, she tastes sandalwood and sweet berries. He molds himself against her, tasting her teeth and promising a place that she will always return to.

She parts, only to breathe against his skin.

“It will be nice to see Umi again.”

Genji smiles. The sun plays in the light brown of his eyes, like a twinkling star.

His fingers lift. Lacing through her hair, brushing gently against her pointed ears, he eases her back to him. He’s as warm as a rock out in the middle of the day, and tender as the babbles of the little stream. The taste of rainfall and tree bark keep returning to her sense. She only means to indulge in more.

Night takes up their time. In the willow trees Mercy nursed to a magically swift adulthood, they both lie in moss and cattail cotton. Genji helps carve shelves as she tucks away strong smelling flowers. His mother’s yellow dress is partially blackened with the fire that occurred over two years ago, but it still reminds of dancing.

They part, breathing in between a kiss. His fingers cup her pointed ears. She tastes his smile.

“Angela,” he whispers.

A summer breeze gives a soft greeting. Sunshine dances as the leaves give a harmonizing song about honey and pollen. Magic spills across their souls. The scent of tree bark and happiness overcomes her senses.

Morning means to carry Genji back to his work of axes and far away trees. Mercy won’t wait in stillness. There is too much to grow and nourish now.

When he does leave their home, he carries so much more than the walls of support and the sheltering overhang of a roof. He takes a bit of her heart. The lumberjack steals a few kisses of her soul on his lips. Worn and weathered hands have only been gentle against her skin and wings. The river of his voice is the only one to speak her true name.

The fairy works away, knowing that her home in his arms will return soon. 


End file.
